Gotham Noir
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: The Joker suffers an accident that both Batman and Harley feel responsible for, which lands him in a coma. He awakens to a very different Gotham City from the one he knew, where he has to figure out if he can get home, and if he wants to.
1. Chapter 1

**Gotham Noir**

The Joker stood on the roof of the Monarch Theater, whistling happily as he wired a series of explosives to the marquee, which currently read _Now Showing: Batbrain vs. Joker, Part 9289 – A Sequel Too Many?_

He stood back when he was done, looking happily at his work. "I love my job," he murmured to himself, beaming.

"Aw, it looks perfect, puddin'!" exclaimed Harley Quinn, leaping into Joker's arms and kissing his cheek. "Batsy's sure to head straight over here!"

"Yeah, especially since I left all those hostages down in the movie theater," said Joker, nodding. "If he doesn't get here in the next three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, this whole place is gonna explode and bury 'em in rubble. But he'll be here," he said, patting her head. "He just can't resist rescuing these useless people, no matter how tedious and meaningless their little lives are. Personally, I'm all for judging people's taste in film as a valid reason for their deaths – I mean, if you voluntarily paid money to see this latest CGI crapfest, you really do deserve to die."

"I don't think anybody can argue with that logic," agreed Harley.

Joker took a deep breath of the night air, looking around and smiling. "I tell ya, Harley girl, these are the nights that make you feel alive," he murmured. "Hearing the ticking of the clock, imagining the terror of the hostages, and waiting for the Bat to show. It's a wonderful life."

"It sure is, puddin'," agreed Harley. "Any night I'm with you is perfect."

She cleared her throat. "Although…do you ever wonder if there's more to life than this?"

"Like what?" asked Joker, checking to make sure the explosives were wired correctly.

"Oh, I dunno," said Harley, lightly. "Kids, maybe."

"You still on about that?" demanded Joker. "I've told you, that's never gonna happen, so just do me a favor and shut up about it! We all have dreams that won't come true, so just do what everyone else does and lock them away deep inside you and never speak of them again, ok?"

"What dreams do you have that won't come true, puddin'?" asked Harley, puzzled.

"Nothing," he snapped.

"You just said 'we all' have them," pointed out Harley. "That includes you."

Joker shrugged. "It's silly," he said.

"Tell me," she pleaded, taking a seat on the ledge and patting the space next to her.

Joker sighed again, checking his watch. "Well, we got time," he said, taking a seat next to her. "It's stupid, but…as much as I love fighting Bats, I've always dreamed about what it would be like…to work with him."

"You mean save people?" asked Harley, horrified.

"No, not save people," said Joker. "Just…y'know, do the detective stuff with him that he does. Maybe all old school detective, where we're partners in a private investigation service that has to solve all these criminal cases in a town of sleazy morals amidst a backdrop of darkness and sin."

"You mean like…Scooby Doo?" asked Harley, slowly.

"No, Harley," sighed Joker. "I mean like in those old noir movies, long before your time, I guess. Anyway, it's a stupid dream that would never happen in reality. But I think Bats and I would make a good team if we ever got to work together. And that superhero stuff he does ain't for me. But he's also the World's Greatest Detective, and that's a little more my speed. I've got some experience in the criminal underworld, after all, and my street smarts combined with his detective smarts…it would just be fun. But it's a dream that will never happen in reality, just like your kid dream," he added, standing up. "So just get used to it. You can't always get what you want, as the philosopher Jagger once said."

"I guess not," agreed Harley, sadly. But she forced a smile. "And I guess…as long as I have my puddin', I have everything I need," she added, hugging him tightly.

"Well, I ain't going nowhere, sweets, except maybe back to Arkham if Batsy catches up with us," said Joker, scanning the skies. "But he doesn't appear to be coming…"

He was cut off as a dark shape collided with his body. "I should know by now never to doubt you, Batsy!" Joker chuckled, struggling to his feet as Batman hurried over to disarm the bomb. "So how are things? It feels like it's been a long time, hasn't it? I trust everything in the Bat-world is still ticking along smoothly?"

Batman ignored him, snipping some wires with one hand and shooting out a grappling hook to wrap around Harley's legs as she headed toward him, hammer raised.

"I know sending you that clapperboard with blood on the stick probably wasn't the best hint, or the best joke, but you're here now, and that's what matters," continued Joker. "I had lots of other ideas for movie-based jokes – the film bombing, limbs ending up on the cutting room floor, those kinds of things. But I thought a visual gag would be more fun than wordplay this time. I'm just aware that wordplay sometimes ventures over into Riddler's territory, and nobody wants that. Tell me, if you were going to snap one day and kill someone, which one of us rogues would it be? It would be Nygma, wouldn't it? He's just too annoying to live, don't you think?"

Batman still said nothing, turning to face him and raising his fist. Joker sighed. "You're maddeningly unhelpful," he muttered, as Batman struck out at him. "Just no sense of humor! And I don't believe in one-sided relationships – they need communication on both sides in order to work, y'know!"

"Hang on, puddin'!" called Harley, trying to free herself from the rope wrapped around her legs. "I'm coming!"

"I just go through all this work, and I don't even feel appreciated!" Joker continued, dodging Batman's punches. "It took you, what, five seconds to disarm the bomb? And this fight probably ain't gonna last more than a couple minutes – it just doesn't seem worth it sometimes! I just wish there was some way you would learn to appreciate me!"

"Me appreciating you would be the world's least funny joke," retorted Batman, as he kicked him in the chest. Joker fell to the ground, winded, and Batman stood over him with open handcuffs. "Now let's go."

"Not yet!" shrieked Harley, clubbing Batman on the head with her hammer. "C'mon, puddin'!" she cried, grabbing Joker's hand and racing toward the ledge. "If he wants us, he's gonna have to catch us!"

They both jumped off the ledge, landing in the dumpster below. "Thank God for the cushion of garbage," said Joker, making a face as he crawled out.

"Yeah, I really hope the smell comes out," commented Harley, as they raced toward the Jokermobile. "Of both the clothes and the car," she added, as they climbed in.

"Hey, if the dead body smell came outta the trunk, the garbage should too," reasoned Joker, backing out and screeching off into the streets of Gotham. "Do you see the Bat?" he asked.

"He's got a black car, so he's kinda hard to spot in the dark," said Harley, glancing out the back window. "But I kinda doubt he's just given up."

"Good. Car chases are always fun," said Joker, spotting the Batmobile in the rear-view mirror and suddenly slamming on the accelerator.

"Be careful, puddin'!" exclaimed Harley, as they just barely missed hitting a car, knocking the wing mirror off it and sending sparks flying as they scraped against another.

"You wanna drive?" demanded Joker, swerving suddenly to avoid another car.

"Yeah!" snapped Harley, grabbing the wheel. "You try and shoot him!"

Joker swore loudly, climbing into the backseat as he withdrew his gun. "You buckle up right now!" shouted Harley, as she took his place in the driver's seat.

"Yes, Mother!" shouted Joker, sarcastically, ignoring her as he aimed the gun at the Batmobile, which was hot on their tail. He fired through the back window, and the bullet bounced off the car. Joker fired again as the Batmobile came up beside them, trying to ram them off the road. Harley twisted the wheel, fighting against it, as Joker aimed his gun toward the Batmobile's tires. He hit one, and it punctured, causing the Batmobile to fall behind.

"Yes!" exclaimed Joker. "Did you see that shot, Harl…" he began, turning to face her, when they suddenly turned down a side street which was blocked by a truck. Harley slammed on the brakes while trying to swerve the car out of the way – she succeeded in turning the car enough so that the truck collided with the empty side of the vehicle. Unfortunately, the power of the turn also caused the Joker, who had not been wearing his seatbelt, to crash through the car window, landing in the middle of the road…which was suddenly filled by the Batmobile. Batman slammed on the brakes, but it was too late – he heard a sickening crunch and his blood ran cold.

"Mr. J!" screamed Harley, who, aside from a few cuts and bruises, was largely unhurt by the accident. She climbed out of the crash and hurried over to Joker, just as Batman opened the door and joined her.

"Oh my God, you killed him!" she gasped.

"No," said Batman, feeling Joker's neck for a pulse. "He's alive. But he needs immediate medical attention," he said, trying to lift the body up.

"Don't touch him!" shrieked Harley, batting him away. "You tried to murder him!"

"Harley, it was an accident!" snapped Batman.

"Yeah, right," muttered Harley, tears in her eyes. "You've always been jealous of him, of us, and how happy we are together. And this is your revenge, so you don't have to feel guilty about killing him – you can tell yourself it was an accident."

"It _was _an accident!" snapped Batman. "Anyway, I don't have time to argue with you – if you want to save his life, he needs to get to a hospital right now!"

Harley nodded. "He's…he's gonna be ok," she said, with more confidence than she felt, as Batman carefully lifted Joker's body and laid it in the backseat, where Harley joined him, stroking Joker's hair back. "He's gonna be ok," she whispered, tears trailing down her face. "He's gotta. He's just gotta."

Batman said nothing, climbing into the driver's seat and speeding off into the streets of Gotham.


	2. Chapter 2

"_His vitals are dropping - we're losing him!"_

_ "Come on, puddin', you've got to fight!"_

_ "Hang on, Joker."_

"Joker!" said a voice, and Joker opened his eyes to see Batman standing next to him. He blinked – it was definitely Batman, but his usual bat costume was slightly different. Less tights, and more suit, with a fedora over his mask.

"Batsy?" asked Joker, rubbing his eyes. "What happened to you?"

"Hey, you're the one who fell asleep at your desk again," retorted Batman, turning around to pour him a cup of coffee. "Another late night poring over the files?"

"Files?" repeated Joker. He looked down to see that he was indeed sitting at a desk, with a file open on it. "Uh…yeah…files," he said, picking them up. As he looked at them, the words seemed to swirl around in an unfocused haze, and he couldn't seem to make out any of them out.

"Any leads?" asked Batman, handing him the cup of coffee and pouring one for himself.

"Leads?" repeated Joker.

"On the case," said Batman, sipping his coffee. "Geez, you really need to go home and get some rest if this is how outta it you get sleeping at the office."

"Office," repeated Joker, looking around at the cramped, dark, and dingy room minimally decorated with ugly furniture and filing cabinets. "Right…office."

"You feeling ok, J?" asked Batman.

"Sure I am," said Joker. "It's just…I don't think we've had this long a conversation before without you punching me in the face."

"What are you talking about?" asked Batman, draining the cup and tossing it in the trash. "The only time I've ever punched you is when you beat me to solving a case, and I certainly never aim for the face. That brain of yours is just too valuable for our business," he said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Our…business," repeated Joker, slowly. "Right."

"What the heck is wrong with you?" asked Batman.

"I'm not sure," said Joker. "Why don't you just…pretend like I'm a stranger who has no idea who or where I am. Y'know, for fun."

Batman sighed. "You are such a joker," he muttered. "I guess that's where your name comes from. Well, you, Joker, and me, Batman, are private investigators in Gotham City, the most despicable and crime-ridden city in America, full of back alley dealings and sleazy situations. People bring us their dark and gritty cases, and we solve 'em, murder, mayhem, kidnapping, extortion, you name it. We're the best PIs in this miserable burg, you the brains and me the brawn, or so you claim, and we're partners till the end. We've never failed to solve a case, big or small, the law is grateful, and the ladies love us. Now quit joking around – we got a big case to crack," he said, taking the file from his desk. "I thought you'd been burning the midnight oil on it, but it looks like you just got drunk and passed out on your desk again, which would explain you being all disoriented this morning," he added, nodding at the empty whiskey bottle on his desk. "Maybe get a shower or something, or splash some cold water on your face, huh?"

"O…K," said Joker, noticing a sink in the corner and turning on the faucet. The water came out dark and brackish.

"That's Gotham," said Batman, reaching for a cigarette and lighting it up. "Everything's dirty here – water, money, deeds, everything. The seedy underbelly of sin and secrets that is Gotham City."

"Well, I ain't washing in that," said Joker, turning it off. "I'll take a smoke, though. I actually didn't know you shared my little vice."

"Smoking ain't a vice here in Gotham," retorted Batman, handing him a cigarette and lighting it for him. "It's a necessity. It's how we cope, by inhaling the dirt and grime, swirling it around in our lungs, and then puffing it out before it kills us."

Joker inhaled deeply, his mind whirling. The last thing he remembered was the car chase, and then…something had happened, a crash, maybe? And he had woken up here. Maybe he was dead, and this was heaven. He and Batman as partners in a PI service was certainly his idea of heaven. But then, he had never judged himself likely to go to heaven, in which case this might be the other place. But it certainly didn't seem hellish so far. The only thing he could think to do at the moment was play along with this game and see where it took him.

"So this case," said Joker, puffing out his cigarette. "Get me up to speed."

"I was hoping you could do that for me," retorted Batman. "You said you were staying late to work on it. Not that I can blame you – I also wanna solve this as quickly as possible and get whatever reward that hot dame chooses to dish out."

"Hot dame?" repeated Joker.

"Oh, c'mon, you can't have forgotten the bombshell who brought us this case?" asked Batman. They heard a bell ring from downstairs, and Batman glanced out the dirty window behind him.

"You're in luck," he said, pressing a buzzer on his desk. "Looks like she's come back for an update. She can knock your socks off all over again."

"I doubt you and me have the same taste in dames, Bats," retorted Joker. The door of the office opened to the jingling of a bell above it, and Joker stared at the woman who entered. "I stand corrected," he added.

It was Harley Quinn, but she looked very different to her usual clown self. She was dressed in a simple red dress with a black wrap, her tightly pulled up blonde hair crowned by a black hat, which cast a slight veil over her wide, blue eyes. Eyes which were gazing at them in pleading desperation. "I'm sorry to return so soon, but have you made any progress on my case?" she asked, taking a seat in front of Joker's desk.

"We are certainly on it, Miss Quinzel," said Batman. "My colleague here stayed at the office all night looking for new leads, didn't you, pal?"

"Pal?" repeated Joker, beaming. "I like the sound of that! And…uh…yes, I did spend the evening poring over your case," he said to Harley. "But what I think would really help me is if you reviewed the details of it in your own words, re-framing anything you think could be remotely vague about it, just so I have the latest, up-to-date information from a fresh perspective."

Harley stared at him. "Did you really spend all night looking over my case, or were you drinking?" she asked.

"I can multi-task," retorted Joker, trying to discreetly knock the empty bottle of whiskey into the trash.

"Maybe I should get someone else to help…" began Harley, standing up.

"No, Miss Quinzel, please, I promise you, I am very interested in you," said Joker. "In you… in your case, obviously," he invented. "I just…I've hit a dead end, and sometimes you can have a breakthrough just by seeing the details through different eyes, or hearing them from a fresh pair of lips. Which yours definitely are."

"Smooth," commented Batman, pouring a glass of whiskey. "J's words, not your lips, although I wouldn't mind trying and seeing."

"Hey, back off, Bats!" snapped Joker. "Geez, I'm starting to prefer the strong and silent type, because at least he wouldn't hit on my dame! Just hit her instead!" he chuckled.

"I'm sorry, you're obviously not taking this seriously," began Harley, heading for the door. "And I have better things to do with my time than be harassed…"

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Miss Quinzel - I'm a joker, and not everyone gets my sense of humor, which can be perceived as offensive," said Joker, catching her arm. "But I can assure you, there is no offense intended on my part. I think you're a wonderful woman, beautiful, sure, but also fiercely intelligent and compassionate, as your case suggests. It would be my honor and privilege to look into it, if you'll let me."

He was just making things up at this point, but flattery did usually seem to work with women, and Harley had had moments of being intelligent and compassionate in the past, so it seemed in character. She nodded slowly, and sat back down.

"Well, as I said yesterday, it all started when my sister got mixed up with some shady characters…"

"You don't have a sister," interrupted Joker. "I mean, you don't have a sister…like the one you thought you knew," he hastily invented. "She's betrayed your trust by getting mixed up with some shady characters."

"Well, she's always been willing to engage in risky behavior," said Harley. "Especially when there's a man involved. There was this guy, Jason Woodrue, who had her experimenting with plant-based hallucinogens…but anyway, that fizzled out, and I thought her going with the District Attorney would have really been a good turning point for Red…"

"Wait, wait, wait, Ivy is your sister?" demanded Joker.

"How do you know Pam's nickname?" asked Harley, puzzled. "We only call her Red or Ivy within the family…"

"I…researched it, naturally," invented Joker. "And you thought I didn't work on your case at all last night. I contacted…her ex-boyfriend, who told me about it. Along with the fact that she's a real handful and headcase."

"Well, we love our family despite their flaws," replied Harley. "And Red and I have always been close. Which is why her disappearance is so out of character – she's always told me everything, even when Woodrue got her mixed up in drugs. And I thought her relationship with Harvey Dent was going to keep her on the straight and narrow…"

"Ah yes, District Attorney Harvey Dent," said Joker, nodding. "At least some things are familiar here. Familiar…to what I read last night," he invented hastily.

"But now she's suddenly disappeared," said Harley. "I spoke to Harvey, who said he hasn't seen her, but I can't help but think maybe her getting mixed up with him has led to her getting into trouble with some of the gangs and criminals Harvey's trying to put away. Maybe they're trying to teach Harvey a lesson by kidnapping somebody close to him. She could be in the clutches of some horrible people, scared and trapped and all alone somewhere…"

Joker saw tears come to her eyes. "Well…from what I know...heard about Pammie, she can take care of herself," he said. "But Dent should know if she has been taken. He should have received a ransom note or something if she's being held by criminals, and if he hasn't, that's a good sign."

"Unless he knows more than he's telling," said Batman, standing up. "I think I'll go pay our District Attorney a little visit."

"I'll come with you," said Harley, standing up.

"No, if he's already lied to you, there's no point," said Batman. "Trust me, Miss Quinzel, the best thing you can do for your sister right now is go back home and wait for one of us to call you. Wandering around Gotham looking for her is doing nobody any good, least of all yourself. It's dangerous for a young woman out there alone."

"Especially with Batman on the loose," agreed Joker.

"I just hate to sit home alone feeling useless," said Harley. "It's just been me and Red since we moved to Gotham, and without her, the apartment just feels so empty. I think I'll go out of my mind with worry just sitting there alone."

"Well, why don't you give me your address, and I'll stop by later with any leads me and Batsy discover?" asked Joker. "That way you won't be alone for long."

"Yeah, and J's very distracting," said Batman, nodding. "I'm sure he'll be able to provide some diversion for you that'll completely take your mind off your sister. He's good at preoccupying the ladies."

"I am incredibly charming, but also sincere," agreed Joker. "And trust me, toots, we're gonna find your sister, or my name ain't the Joker. Which it is."

Harley nodded slowly. "Here's my number and address," she said, writing something down and handing it to Joker. "Please let me know the moment you find out anything. I'd be so grateful for any update…"

"You'll have one before the day is out," said Joker. "I'll give it to you personally. The update, not anything funny," he added, as he showed Harley to the door. "Unless you want something funny, of course."

"I just want my sister back," murmured Harley.

"Don't worry – everything's gonna be fine," reassured Batman. "Everything's gonna be fine," he repeated, and his form started to go hazy and glitch. "Everything's gonna be fine…"

_"Everything's gonna be fine. He's stable now, and I'm sure he'll wake up soon."_

_"You don't know that, Bats, so don't give me false hope! But he's gotta wake up! He's just gotta!"_

_ "They're doing everything they can, Harley…"_

_ "I don't trust them, or you! This is your dream come true, isn't it? Mr. J stuck in a coma for the rest of his days, not dead but not living, so you don't have to feel guilty about killing him, or have him out there hurting people! But for me it's a living nightmare!"_

_ "You can't do anything more here, Harley. Why don't you just go home…"_

_ "I'm not leaving him in case he wakes up! Which he will! He has to! He has to!"_

"You ok, J?" asked Batman, as the flash of light and color and loud sounds that had intruded on Joker's consciousness suddenly disappeared, returning him once again to the dark, drab little office.

"Yeah," said Joker, slowly rubbing his temples. "Just…a little out of it. But I gotta focus, because we got work to do."

"No, _I _gotta go see Harvey Dent, and you gotta get over your hangover and get all dolled up to meet Miss Quinzel later," said Batman. "Normally I'd be keen to switch roles with you, but I don't think Selina would look too kindly on me comforting other dames in their apartments. Get some rest," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "When you wake up, this will all be over."

"Yeah," murmured Joker, as Batman left the office. "I got a funny feeling it will be."


	3. Chapter 3

While this had all been going on inside the Joker's head, he was actually stuck in a coma at Gotham General, where Harley Quinn had stayed by his side all night, worried sick. Aside from the fact that he was in a coma and not guaranteed to wake up from it, seeing the Joker, the most animated and lively man Harley had ever known, lying motionless and lifeless, confined to a bed and covered in wires and bandages, was an utterly heart-breaking sight. She hadn't left his side - the hospital staff tried to tell her visiting hours were over, but nobody had the heart, or indeed, the guts, to try and force her to leave. She hadn't stopped crying all through the long hours of the night, which were somehow longer being stuck in a hospital. When dawn broke, nothing about Joker or Harley's condition had changed, but the latter did receive a visitor.

"Hey, baby, I heard about J," said Poison Ivy, entering the hospital room and embracing Harley. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I'm coping as well as I can, Red," murmured Harley, hugging her tightly. "It's Mr. J I'm concerned for."

"Yeah, which is why I asked how _you _are holding up," retorted Ivy. "You're the one who's actually suffering, or at least, the only one who knows they're suffering."

"I don't know what he's feeling," murmured Harley, staring at Joker. "Or thinking, or experiencing, or anything. That's one of the worst parts…oh, who am I kidding? Every part of this experience is the worst part," she murmured.

"Hey Harley, Ivy and me brought you some fake flowers," said Two-Face, entering the room. "And a balloon. I insisted on bringing you two things…"

"And I told you to wait in the car!" snapped Ivy, grabbing the flowers and balloon from him.

"C'mon, Pam, this isn't the time to play coy about our relationship," retorted Two-Face. "We were together when they played the news about J," he explained. "And I wanted to offer you my moral support too. I know this kinda thing can't be easy for you. I was in a coma once too, y'know, brought on by Ivy's poisoned lipstick, but I woke up. I'm sure J will too."

"Thanks, Harvey," said Harley, smiling at him. "I really appreciate it. But Mr. J's condition was on the news, huh? That's really the last thing I need on top of everything else," she sighed.

"If you're worried about rivals trying to take advantage of the situation, don't be," said Ivy. "The first thing Harvey and me did was call all the rogues to make sure they respect the 'no attacks on fellow rogues in the hospital' rule. There's a certain honor among our kind of thieves anyway."

"It ain't our kind of thieves I'm worried about," sighed Harley. "Mr. J has a lotta enemies who could try to take advantage of a situation like this. That's one of the reasons why I'm not leaving his side – some unscrupulous rat might try to sneak in here and pull the plug on him while he can't fight back. He needs me by his side constantly to protect him. And because I just can't leave him like this," she said, tears coming to her eyes again.

"Baby, you must be exhausted," said Ivy, gently. "And I know you don't want to leave him, but you can't wear yourself out like this. Especially since it could be days or even weeks before he wakes up. You need your rest if you wanna avoid a complete mental breakdown. Harvey and me can take turns standing guard while you get a nap."

"Oh, I can't ask you to do that, Red," said Harley, wiping her eyes. "Anyway, you might try to pull the plug on him too. I know how much you hate him."

"I do hate him, but I could never hurt you like that, Harley," said Ivy. "And this isn't the time for my and J's petty rivalry, even if I do think the world would be a lot better place without him in it."

"Lots of people probably think that," murmured Harley. "All the doctors here…any one of 'em could try to finish the job that Bats started…"

She sniffed. "I mean, I'd like to blame Bats, but really this is all my fault. I shouldn't have turned the car down that street…we never woulda hit that truck and...he never woulda crashed out the window and Bats never woulda…"

She trailed off in a sob. "It's my fault!" she sobbed. "My fault! And if he never wakes up, that'll be my fault too! And if he does wake up, he shouldn't forgive me for what I did, because I'll never forgive myself!"

"Honey, it was an accident," said Ivy, embracing her gently. "Accidents happen. It's not your fault. J should have been wearing his seatbelt, so it's his fault if he dies."

Harley just sobbed louder at this. "Or, to look at it another way, Bats is the one who hit him, so let's blame him, huh?" said Ivy, hastily.

"Yes, let's blame Batman," said Jonathan Crane cheerfully, beaming as he entered the room carrying a bouquet of flowers, followed by a more solemn Jervis Tetch. "Finally that idiotic bully goes too far and breaks his own stupid no killing rule, proving that he's no different than the rest of us…"

He trailed off and his smile fell as he stared at the beeping monitors attached to Joker's still yet breathing form. Then he rounded on Jervis. "You told me he was dead!" he hissed.

"I said no such thing – I said time has stopped for the Joker," retorted Tetch. "Which is entirely true. He has no sense of time wherever he is."

"Well, this is…wonderful news!" said Crane, managing a forced smile. "I had thought to offer you my condolences this morning, my dear, but I'm so very pleased that the Joker still remains with us in the land of the living." His smile and the tone of his voice could not have been more strained.

"These mourning lilies were for you, but consider them a get well soon bunch now," he continued, handing her the bouquet. "Even though lilies represent death, so now it seems more of a morbid gesture than I intended, as if I'm hoping for his death, which I'm not, of course," he added hastily.

"How dare you bring flowers in here?" demanded Ivy. "You think it's not enough that Harley has to suffer, so you make me suffer too?"

"I didn't know you'd be here!" snapped Crane. "Anyway, this isn't about you, Pamela! It's about Harley, and how she's coping!"

"I imagine as well as anyone can, when their world is upside down," said Tetch, sympathetically. "You must let us know if there's anything we can do, my dear."

"I appreciate you all stopping by," said Harley, sincerely. "And maybe…if it's not too much trouble…you could take turns guarding Mr. J while I get some rest? I hate to ask it, and as much as I don't like the thought of giving up on guarding him, Red's right. I am gonna need some rest at some point. And I trust everyone in this room enough to know that you won't want Mr. J hurt for my sake."

"Of course, baby, let me just drive you home…" began Ivy.

"No, I'm gonna stay here," interrupted Harley. "I wanna be close to him, even when I'm asleep. That way maybe I can stay close by him even when he's asleep. Wherever he is…I wanna be there with him."

"I'm sure you are, my dear," said Tetch, gently. "After all, when Alice went to Wonderland, the characters she met there were familiar to her, although they were also so fantastical. Carroll wrote that '"Sleep hath its own world" and it is often as lifelike as the other.' I'm sure whatever is going on in his head is very real to him, but the Joker of all people can't stay in reality forever. Sooner or later, he needs to break out of it and go back to his regular insanity."

Harley smiled. "Thanks, Jervis," she murmured, hugging him. "And thanks to all of you," she added, smiling at them as Two-Face brought two chairs into the room for Harley to lie down on. Crane removed his jacket and placed it over her as a blanket. "I'll probably be awake again in a few minutes," she said, yawning. "Don't think I'll even be able to drop off without Mr. J…"

She trailed off, and instantly began snoring softly. "I know she has a very strong will, but even the strongest will has to give in to the natural demands of the body from time to time," sighed Tetch.

"Oh, why couldn't Joker have done the decent thing and just died?" demanded Crane, glaring at him. "Freeing both Gotham and Harley from his toxic presence would be the best thing he could ever do! Plus there would have been the added joy of it being Batman's fault, so not only would Joker be dead, but Batman would have been broken having broken his cardinal rule! It would have been a perfect and fitting end for both of them!"

"Fate works in mysterious ways sometimes," replied Two-Face, flipping his coin. "Maybe this near death experience will give J a new perspective on life. Maybe he'll learn to be grateful for the things he has, like the love of a good woman."

"And maybe humans will voluntarily reduce their population and save the planet," retorted Ivy, sarcastically. "I doubt even a near death experience will change J. Hell, I doubt even a real death experience could. Knowing our luck, he'd come back as some kinda annoying poltergeist, not that I believe in stuff like that. But if anyone could do it, it's J."

"Do you think he can hear us?" asked Two-Face, studying him. "I mean, he looks completely unconscious, but you never know with people in comas."

"Why? Are you wanting to shout abuse at him?" asked Crane. "Because I'm certainly tempted."

"Knock yourself out," said Ivy, taking a seat and pulling a magazine out of her purse. "I'll take the first guard shift – you guys can come back this evening."

"I'll sit with you," said Two-Face. "Always good to have double duty."

"This is because you don't trust me not to pull the plug on him, isn't it?" demanded Ivy.

"Partially," agreed Two-Face. "And partially because I like twos."

"I guess if we get bored, we can make out," said Ivy.

"With J watching?" asked Two-Face. "No thanks."

"He's not watching!" snapped Ivy.

"We don't know that," said Two-Face. "We don't know what he can see, or what's going on in his head."

"Can't be any weirder than what usually goes on in his head," said Ivy, shrugging as she returned to her magazine.

"I wouldn't bet on that," murmured Two-Face.


	4. Chapter 4

"Boy, I never realized how hard it is being illiterate," said Joker to himself as he stared down at the papers on his desk after Batman had left. The letters still swirled unintelligibly, and Joker picked up a pen to test if he could write. He could, but the scrawl came out as the same hazy, swirling blur. "This could be a serious handicap in trying to figure out what the heck is going on. But maybe that's the way it's supposed to be, so I can supply the audio narration just like in the old movies. I kinda wish I'd paid more attention to how they were structured now – then I could probably easily solve the case, and something tells me if I solve the case, it'll go a long way towards clearing up the mystery of what's happening to me. So let's review what we've got. We've got the classic damsel in distress in Harley – that's an oldie but goodie trope. These movies also usually have a femme fatale, probably Pammie, assuming she's still alive. I can't think of anyone else who would fit that description…"

The bell over the door rang again, and a dark-haired woman in a long, tight black dress entered. "Again, I stand corrected," Joker commented to himself.

"Hi J, where's Bats?" asked Selina Kyle, putting her cigarette holder to her lips.

"Gone to work on the case," said Joker. "He's talking to the DA."

Selina's face fell. "About what?" she asked, clearly trying to sound casual.

"The case," retorted Joker. "Miss Quinzel's case. Her sister's mixed up with the DA romantically, and she's disappeared."

"Oh, good," said Selina. "Not good about the disappearance, but good that…you've got a new case."

"Let me guess – you're worried about Bats talking to the DA because he doesn't know you're a wanted cat burglar and notorious thief, and you're afraid the DA will tell him," said Joker, smiling at her. "You think if Bats finds out, he'll dump you, and you don't want that to happen."

"How would you know such a thing, even if it were true, which it isn't," retorted Selina.

"Let's just say I know everybody here a little better than they think," chuckled Joker.

"Well, if you promise not to tell Bats, you can get to know me even better," said Selina, puffing her cigarette out and smiling.

"Ah, so you're the feline fatale, as it were," chuckled Joker. "Well, I'm flattered but spoken for, kitty. Plus Bats would kill me, and I couldn't do that to my buddy. Pals before gals, as the saying goes."

"Well, I guess I can trade you a little information for keeping my secret instead," said Selina, studying her nails. "I don't know if it has anything to do with this case in particular, but certain interested parties have contacted me to engage my services in acquiring a very valuable item which has just been purchased by the Gotham Fine Art Museum for its featured collection. Rumor has it criminals are flying in from all over the world to steal it, and my contact offered me half a million for it."

"What is it?" asked Joker.

"It's a black statuette," said Selina. "Of a bat."

"That doesn't sound so valuable," said Joker.

"It's solid gold and encrusted with precious jewels," continued Selina. "But it's coated in black enamel to disguise it. The museum is going to clean it off and restore it to its former glory, if they even receive it in the first place. Like I said, there's a number of unscrupulous types looking to get their hands on this one."

"When's it coming into Gotham?" asked Joker.

"Tonight," said Selina, puffing on her cigarette. "But I doubt it'll make it to the museum."

"Because you're going to steal it, or because somebody else will?" asked Joker.

"That would be telling," she retorted, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "But I'll be keeping an eye on that museum. So should you," she added, heading for the door.

"Well, I'm gonna be kinda busy tonight giving Miss Quinzel an update on her case," said Joker. "But I guess I can always go see her afterward. And I'll bring Bats with me to the museum. Maybe you'll have the courage to reveal your true self to him, if the DA hasn't already done that for him."

"Just warn him that these are dangerous people," said Selina. "I don't want to see him get hurt."

"Then you'd better keep an eye on him too," retorted Joker. "See you around, pussy cat."

Selina left, and Joker leaned back in his chair. "There's gotta be a connection between these two cases," he murmured. "Although aside from Bats, hell if I know what it is. Maybe the guys who have kidnapped Pammie are also after this bat statue. Assuming she was kidnapped – maybe she's after it herself, or Harvey is. It's hard to know who to trust in this kinda situation."

He lit up a cigarette. "I mean, aside from Bats. And Harley, I guess – I know her to be trustworthy. She sure ain't trying to pull the wool over anyone's eyes. Now Selina might be – maybe there is no valuable bat statuette coming in to the museum tonight. Maybe this is all a setup for me or Bats. But to what end? Who'd wanna kill me, or Bats?"

He paused, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "Ok, there are several thousand possibilities there, and I don't have time to go through them all, especially since I can't write any of them down. Although maybe I do have time," he said, glancing at the clock on the office wall, which he also couldn't read. He shut his eyes. "I'll just go through the list of anyone who could have a grudge against me, starting with the furthest back in time – first is probably the family of that janitor I killed after crawling out of the vat at Ace Chemicals. But that's what he deserved for screaming and calling me a walking corpse, and because it was funny to make _him _a corpse instead…"

After what was probably several hours and several thousand instances later, Joker had just finished up his list with, "And I guess any of those people who I held hostage in the movie theater before the crash…" when the office door opened and Batman returned.

"Hey, Bats, what'd you find out?" asked Joker.

"Not much," admitted Batman. "The DA seems sincere in his ignorance of Ivy's whereabouts, but I just got this gut feeling he knows more than he's telling, like he's two-faced or something."

"I'm willing to bet your gut feeling is right," said Joker, nodding as he lit another cigarette.

"Anyway, I don't think we've got anymore leads to follow," said Batman. "Which will make your talk with Miss Quinzel this evening a little disappointing."

"Not so fast," said Joker. "We got an anonymous tip about a robbery going down at the Gotham Fine Art Museum tonight – a valuable black bat statuette is going to be stolen. _I _have a gut feeling that this robbery ties into Ivy's disappearance somehow."

"You think she's gone from being mixed up with the DA to mixed up with criminals?" asked Batman.

"Who's to say they aren't one and the same?" asked Joker, shrugging.

"You're right," agreed Batman. "This is Gotham, after all. The law and the lawless walk a thin line of separation, and sometimes they cross over. Sometimes it's hard to tell what's right and what's just – sometimes those things are consumed in the shadows of this city, and every night you're tempted to fall from grace into the soul-sucking void of Gotham's darkness."

"You really got a way with words, pal," said Joker. "And speaking of soul-sucking voids, did the DA mention anything about your girlfriend?"

"Selina?" asked Batman. "No, why would he?"

"Just a hunch – I think she's probably known to the police," said Joker. "She comes across as that kinda dame."

"I'm sure she's made mistakes, but who hasn't in this town?" asked Batman. "There's no way innocence and virtue can survive for long here."

"Well, that's where you're wrong, pal," said Joker. "Miss Quinzel is completely innocent and virtuous. But not for long with me around, of course," he chuckled.

Batman said nothing, but lit a cigarette thoughtfully. "What?" asked Joker.

"Nothing," said Batman.

"Don't give me that - your silence says more than words ever could," retorted Joker. "Especially since you're all talkative now."

Batman puffed out a cloud of smoke. "I'm not sure I trust Miss Quinzel, is all," he said. "Just another gut feeling of mine. I mean, nobody's that wide-eyed and vulnerable in Gotham. She could be trying to set us up, like some kinda honey trap."

"Now that's where you're wrong, pal," snapped Joker. "Miss Quinzel's a lotta things, but she's an honest dame. She'd never try to deceive me."

"I think your head's just been turned by a pretty doll," retorted Batman. "Trust me, if you go over to her place tonight, I'll bet you anything she'll try to pry information outta you by any methods available to her."

"What kinda information could she want?" asked Joker.

Batman shrugged. "Stuff about us, or our clients, maybe. Just don't give her anything to work with."

"I'll bet you twenty bucks she won't try anything of the kind," snapped Joker, reaching into his jacket for his wallet. He pulled it out to find it empty.

"You can owe me," said Batman. "I know you never have any spare cash on you, so Miss Quinzel sure ain't after your money," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's get over to that museum," he said, reaching into a drawer in his desk and pulling out a pistol.

"Since when do you carry a gun?" asked Joker.

"Since I came to Gotham," retorted Batman, checking it was loaded. "Only an idiot would wander these streets without one."

"You can say that again," agreed Joker under his breath, as he followed Batman out of the office.


	5. Chapter 5

The real Batman, meanwhile, had also returned to the streets of Gotham, although noticeably without a gun, and without the Batmobile. Ever since the accident of the previous night, he was a little tentative about using the vehicle again, since he now saw it as a weapon that could conceivably kill someone, as he had almost killed the Joker…

He frowned, shooting his grappling hook over to a nearby building and gliding over. _He _hadn't almost killed him – it had been an accident. It's not like there was some subconscious desire on his part to murder the Joker, and then try and frame it as an accident, although that would obviously solve a lot of his problems…

"It doesn't help to think like that," he muttered to himself. "Killing is wrong, and there's no justification for it. If Joker doesn't pull through, it'll be horrible…"

He trailed off, knowing it would be horrible for him in terms of guilt, but probably pretty positive for mostly everyone else. He sighed heavily as his eyes strayed toward the Clocktower. Maybe it would help to talk to someone who had been deeply hurt by Joker – maybe that would assuage his guilt if Joker didn't pull through.

"You could learn to knock, you know," said Barbara Gordon, also known as Oracle, who didn't turn around as Batman came up behind her computer.

"Why? Are you looking at something I shouldn't see?" he asked.

"It's called manners, and I know Alfred's taught you those," retorted Barbara, smiling at him. "Although I doubt many of them have stuck. You here about a case?" she asked, turning her attention back to her computer.

"Actually, I'm here to talk," said Batman.

"Really?" asked Barbara, turning her wheelchair around to face him with a raised eyebrow. "That's weird. You never like to talk. What's up?"

Batman was silent. "You've…heard about Joker?" he asked at last.

"Only what was on the news," said Barbara. "He's in a coma at Gotham General after you hit him with your car."

"Accidentally," snapped Batman.

"I know that," retorted Barbara. "But the news framed it a little more ambiguously. I don't think anyone would blame you if it wasn't an accident."

"But it was," insisted Batman. "It all happened so fast…there was nothing I could have done to avoid him…"

"Bruce, I know," said Barbara, gently. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Yes, I do," sighed Batman. "After what Joker did to you, I know I shouldn't feel guilty if he doesn't pull through. But I will."

"Of course you will," said Barbara, nodding. "You always had more guilt than sense, hence the whole Batman thing."

Batman glared at her. "That was a joke," she sighed. "But Bruce, you of all people know that vengeance doesn't help when somebody's wronged you. I won't be happy if Joker dies. I mean, I won't be particularly upset about it either, but…I don't blame you for not wanting it to happen."

"It just seems kinda crazy," murmured Batman. "He's destroyed so many lives…it would be a kind of justice if he died now, through his own doing of not wearing a seatbelt, by the way. It's nobody's fault but his, not really…maybe it's the universe's way of dispensing justice, Joker dying by his own hand after he's killed so many people. Including himself now."

"I guess if you believe in cosmic justice," said Barbara. "Have you spoken to Alfred about this?"

"No," replied Batman. "Should I?"

"I always do, when looking for wisdom," said Barbara, shrugging. "I mean, him and my dad are the wisest people I know. And I think a big part of wisdom is recognizing that sometimes things happen for no reason. There's nothing we can do about them, and there's no reason to feel guilty about them. You're right – what happened to Joker was nobody's fault really. It was just a series of accidents that led to one big accident. That's life sometimes, and sometimes it's better that way. When somebody commits a crime, you can become obsessed in blaming them, and trying to figure out why they did it, and looking for ways to prevent it from happening again. But an accident is just that – an accident. Nobody is at fault, and nobody needs to feel guilty whatever happens."

Batman was silent again. "What if I wanted it to happen?" he asked, quietly. "I mean, Harley said this was my dream come true, Joker not dead but not active anymore, which is objectively true…what if that subconscious desire did influence my actions somehow?"

"Well, in that case, your subconscious must have been very careful to only put him in a coma instead of killing him," said Barbara. "C'mon, Bruce, you know that's not how things work. Sure we all have impulses, but it takes a conscious decision for that to cross over into something else, including the act of hitting someone with your car just hard enough so they're incapacitated, but not dead. That situation is so unlikely it's just crazy to consider it. And I doubt your subconscious is crazy enough to try it."

"What if I do want him dead?" murmured Batman. "But I just don't want to admit it to myself?"

Barbara smiled. "Then I'd guess you'd be over there trying to pull the plug on him. But you're not."

"Harley wouldn't let me," muttered Batman. "She's guarding him."

"And that's the only thing stopping you, is it?" asked Barbara. "Come on, Bruce, I know you better than that, and so do you. You'd never kill anyone, no matter how much sense that might make. It's a line you just won't cross, and you won't have suddenly decided to do that now. You're a good man at heart, and you won't sacrifice that goodness by killing a man as evil as the Joker. You're here talking to me because you're wracked with guilt over accidentally hitting him with your car. You wouldn't be doing that if you secretly wanted him dead. You wouldn't feel guilty about this, and you do, don't you?"

"I shouldn't," agreed Batman. "I definitely shouldn't after seeing you. But I do."

Barbara sighed. "Bruce, Joker put me in a wheelchair. He took away the use of my legs, and stopped me from ever being Batgirl again. Of course I resent him for that. But if you think _I _want him dead, and worse, want his death on your conscience, then you don't know me very well. I'm better than him – I won't stoop to his level of petty vengeance for the wrong he did me. I rebuilt my life – I took the victim he tried to turn me into and reinvented her as a strong and capable ally. He has no more power over me, and neither would his death. You shouldn't let him have power over you either."

"I know," said Batman. "But he does. I wish I could reinvent my own life free of his influence, like you have…but I can't. Maybe that makes me a victim of his, but…I created him. Maybe there's a strange kind of justice in the fact that he's destroyed through my actions."

"You do have this weird cosmic justice obsession," sighed Barbara. "I don't know where you get it. You of all people should know that the universe is random and chaotic…"

"That's what Joker believes," murmured Batman. "I can't. I have to believe in order and justice, or what's the point?"

Barbara smiled. "The point is that you fight," she murmured. "You fight the chaos, you don't give in to it. That's what makes you a hero. If I gave in to the chaos, I'd have given up your whole crusade after what Joker did to me. But here I am, monitoring the city every night, trying to bring some sort of order to a random and uncaring place. That's what good people do, Bruce. They recognize the darkness, but they fight it. Batman should know that most of all."

Batman nodded slowly. "You're right, Barbara," he murmured. "You're pretty wise yourself, you know."

"Hey, I learned from the best," said Barbara, shrugging as she turned her wheelchair back to face the screen.

"So any leads tonight?" asked Batman, staring at the screen in front of him.

"Actually, Gotham is strangely quiet," said Barbara. "Maybe Joker's accident has got everyone spooked thinking you've turned into a killer, so it could be a blessing in disguise. But an alarm has just been tripped at the Gotham Fine Art Museum. There's nothing on CCTV, so I don't quite know what you're dealing with."

"I'll find out," said Batman, heading for the door. "Thanks, Barbara."

He did feel a little less guilty as he made his way across town to the museum. He landed on the roof, trying to peer inside, but the building seemed empty. Lifting up the glass on the roof, he dropped a rope down to the floor, and then climbed down it. He looked around the shadows carefully for any sign of movement, but there was nothing.

Something suddenly collided with the back of his skull, and Batman fell to the ground. He tried to lash out, but felt his arms and legs instantly constrained. A voice murmured in the darkness, "Don't worry about the Joker. We will finish what you started."

Then he was struck again and blacked out.


	6. Chapter 6

Meanwhile, in Joker's head, he and Batman were also at the Gotham Fine Art Museum. As in reality, the building appeared completely deserted, but they tried the doors to find them unlocked.

"Shouldn't we have triggered some alarm?" asked Joker, looking around the shadows with his flashlight.

"It's been shut off," said Batman, nodding at the panel by the door. "Someone's got here before us."

"You think they got the statue?" asked Joker.

"Only one way to find out," said Batman, as they headed further into the museum. They paused when they saw several bodies on the floor in front of an empty glass case.

"What the hell happened here?" asked Joker.

"Only one way to find out," repeated Batman, kneeling down next to a corpse. "No bullet wounds or knife wounds. This guy died from strangulation," he said, examining the neck.

"This one too," agreed Joker. "But it's like he was strangled with barbed wire or something – see these indentations?" he asked, gesturing to the punctures all around the neck.

"Yep," agreed Batman. "Nasty way to go. And these aren't security guards," he added, studying the clothes. "So what were they doing here?"

"Probably here to pick up the statue," said Joker. "Maybe they're from a rival gang to the one who got it, and they decided to eliminate the competition."

"Maybe," agreed Batman. "But strangulation isn't exactly a quick death, not like a gun. This way of doing it takes extra time, which I guess they thought they had. I guess they weren't scared of the cops if the alarm didn't go off. And look at this," he said, pulling up the sleeves and gesturing to the faces of the corpses. "The tongue's protruding from strangulation, but they've also got these weird rashes on their bodies."

"Maybe it's some kinda message," suggested Joker. "Maybe whoever did this wants to show what'll happen to anyone else who tries to go after the statue. A slow and painful death."

"What's that in his hand?" asked Batman, gesturing to the man's closed fist.

"Some kinda calling card, maybe?" asked Joker, bending down to try and pry open the fingers. He managed to extricate a small slip of paper from the dead man's hand, and unfolded it, seeing only swirling letters again.

"Here, you read it," he said, handing it to Batman, who read the following aloud: "Bring me the bat or you'll be next PI_._"

"PI?" repeated Joker. "Like Private Investigators? Is this addressed to us? How would anyone know we'd be here?"

"Well, you got that tip from someone, who probably figured we would be," said Batman. "Any idea who it was?"

Joker nodded slowly. "It was actually Selina."

"Selina?" repeated Batman. "How is she involved in all this?"

"Uh…she's kinda…a cat burglar," said Joker, slowly. "And she said she'd been contacted about stealing the bat statue."

"Well, I doubt Selina would leave us threatening messages," said Batman. "She could just threaten us in person if she wanted to. But maybe somebody got to her and she told 'em we'd be here."

"But why would whoever wrote this think we'd have the bat statue?" asked Joker. "Or at least, think we could get our hands on it?"

"Maybe because we've met with someone recently who knows where it is," said Batman, quietly.

He was prevented from further conversation by lights flashing outside. "It's the cops – hide!" hissed Joker, grabbing Batman's arm and pulling him into an empty room. They watched from the shadows as the doors opened, and the police entered.

"Jesus Christ, what went on here?" asked the officer on duty, who appeared to be Detective Bullock.

"I dunno, but this is not what I was expecting to find at the scene of a robbery," said Detective Montoya, his partner, shining her flashlight around the room.

Bullock put a walkie talkie to his lips. "Sir, we've got a situation here. Several corpses, but no sign of the statue."

"Any sign of forced entry?" asked the voice on the other end. "Consistent with a cat burglar, maybe?"

"Not yet, but we'll take a look around," said Bullock.

"I doubt the cat burglar is still there, but if she is, shoot to kill," said the voice. "That statue belongs in a museum, not in the hands of criminals, and it's not safe in that museum after an attempted robbery like this. If you find it, bring it to me for safekeeping."

"That voice on the walkie talkie," whispered Batman to Joker. "It's Harvey Dent's."

"So he is involved in this somehow," whispered Joker. "Looks like your gut was right, pal. I guess his 'safekeeping' means selling it on the black market for millions, and then claiming it was stolen or something."

"Probably," agreed Batman. "But if Selina has stolen it, I need to confront her before she can pass it on to her client. Not that I'm afraid of being anonymously threatened – it's happened lots before. But I need to know who she's mixed up with in order to protect myself from them."

"Do you think Dent made Ivy disappear?" asked Joker. "Maybe she found out about him wanting to steal the bat and threatened to tell the cops, so he silenced her permanently?"

"He's powerful enough to get away with it," agreed Batman, nodding. "It's certainly a possibility. Let's get outta here before they spot us," he said, heading for a side door.

Joker nodded, following him, but paused suddenly. "Do you hear that?" he asked.

"What?" asked Batman.

"That music," said Joker, cocking his head. "It sounds like the _Law and Order _theme tune."

"What's _Law and Order_?" asked Batman.

"It's a TV show," said Joker. "You don't hear that? 'In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate but equally important groups: The police, who investigate crime, and the district attorneys, who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories.' DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN…"

"Hey, who goes there?" shouted Bullock, turning the corner and shining his flashlight on them.

"Ok, run," said Joker, as he and Batman pelted toward the door amid a hail of bullets, and shouts demanding that they stop. They leapt into their car and sped off into the streets of Gotham.

"No offense, pal, but maybe when this case is over, you should talk to a headshrinker," said Batman. "I think you're beginning to crack under pressure."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Joker. "And I know just the headshrinker I'm gonna see."


	7. Chapter 7

"Any change?" asked Crane, as he and Tetch re-entered the Joker's hospital room that evening.

"Nope," said Ivy, looking away from the TV screen where Two-Face was intently watching an episode of _Law and Order_. "Harley's still asleep, thank goodness," she added, nodding to Harley's softly snoring form in the corner.

"Well, she certainly needs it," said Crane. "The poor child must be exhausted, both physically and mentally. For her sake alone, I hope Joker wakes up soon."

"Well, call if he does," said Ivy, standing up and reaching for her bag. "Just so I can come back over here and punch him in the face for putting Harley through this. Come on, Harvey."

"Just let me see how this case turns out, Pam," said Two-Face, staring at the screen. "I mean, these shows aren't very accurate, but they do bring back fond memories of my time as DA."

"They bring back bad memories of the numerous times I've appeared in court," retorted Ivy. "The whole thing's such a farce, as if the laws of man can judge me for what I'm doing to save the planet from you bunch of murdering, greedy monsters."

"Always nice to see you, Pamela," replied Crane, as she and Two-Face left. "Have a lovely evening. Honestly, I have better things to do with my night than keep watch over an insane clown in a coma who'd be better off dead," he muttered, taking a seat and opening his book as Tetch turned off the TV.

"Well, Harley will be very grateful, so that's the best way to look at it," said Tetch, putting down his bag and pulling out an electric tea kettle. He unplugged the TV and put the kettle plug in this, and then began hunting around for another socket.

"What are you doing?" asked Crane, looking up from his book.

"Making tea," replied Tetch. "We're going to need it for our long vigil tonight."

"Yes, but what are you looking for?" asked Crane.

"Another plug socket," said Tetch. "For the refrigerator."

"You brought a refrigerator?" asked Crane, incredulous.

"Just a small one," said Tetch. "It's in the car. Well, how else am I supposed to keep the milk for the tea cold? And one can't have tea without milk – it's simply not done."

"I'm sure the hospital has coffee creamer…" began Crane.

"Please, don't insult my taste by pretending that's the same as milk," interrupted Tetch. "No, the refrigerator is the only solution, but unfortunately there doesn't seem to be another socket in the room…"

They both glanced over to the life-support machine Joker was plugged into. "Go on," said Crane. "I'll say it was an accident."

"Honestly, Jonathan, I'm not that despicable, even if you are," retorted Tetch, leaving the room. "I'll just go see if I can find a spare socket elsewhere."

"Suit yourself," said Crane, pausing in his book to imagine what it would be like to pull the Joker's plug, to watch his vitals drop and hear the beeping of the machine get more frantic until finally it turned into a long, dull note as his foul life was extinguished forever…

"A man can dream," he sighed, returning to his book.

"Jonathan, can you come help me bring the refrigerator up from the car?" asked Tetch, popping his head back in. "I've found a spare plug in the hall."

"I can't leave him – get one of the staff to help you," retorted Crane.

"It appears to be all women on duty," said Tetch. "And I can't ask a woman to help me lift a refrigerator."

"Why not?" demanded Crane.

"Because it's not gentlemanly," retorted Tetch. "And anyway, men have more upper body strength, so it's easier for us to lift."

"I don't have any upper body strength," retorted Crane.

"You have more than a woman," snapped Tetch. "Now come on, it'll only take five minutes tops. I've asked one of the nurses to temporarily take your place in guarding him, but we'll be right back."

"Fine," sighed Crane, standing up. "I thought my night couldn't get any worse, but now I get to do some heavy lifting, so I stand corrected."

He left the room as the nurse entered. She waited for Crane and Tetch's voices to disappear, and then went over to the window, opening it. "Come in," she said to the dark figure waiting outside. "He's all alone."

…

Meanwhile, in Joker's head, Batman had pulled up the car in front of Miss Quinzel's apartment. "You go tell her about Harvey Dent's involvement in the case, and I'll go talk to Selina about the statue," he said. "I'll call Miss Quinzel's number as soon as I have any info about it, so keep an eye on the telephone."

"Yeah, I'll try not to be too distracted by Miss Quinzel," chuckled Joker, climbing out of the car. Batman grabbed his arm.

"You be careful, buddy," he said, gently.

"Likewise," said Joker. "But I think your doll's a little more dangerous than mine."

"I hope you're right," agreed Batman. "Dames, huh? Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

"Just stay alive, whatever happens," said Joker.

"You too, pal," said Batman, watching him disappear into the building.

Joker knocked on the door to Miss Quinzel's apartment, and she opened it a second later with tear-stained eyes. "Have you found out anything?" she asked.

"We sure have," agreed Joker, taking off his hat. "May I come in and tell you all about it?"

"Please do," said Harley, holding open the door. "Would you like a drink?"

"Scotch on the rocks, please," said Joker.

Harley began to pour him a glass with shaking hands, nearly dropping the bottle. "Here, I'll get it," said Joker, gently taking the glass from her and finishing pouring the drink. "You'd better sit down."

"Is it that bad?" asked Harley, her worried expression deepening as she sat down on the sofa.

"Kinda," agreed Joker, taking a seat on the sofa next to her. He sipped his drink, and then cleared his throat. "So there's this really valuable bat statuette which was stolen from the Gotham Fine Art Museum tonight."

"What does that have to do with Red?" asked Harley, confused.

"Well, we're not entirely sure about that, but we do know the DA is very interested in getting his hands on this statuette," said Joker. "We suspect…that maybe Ivy found out that the DA was planning on stealing it and…he made sure she didn't tell anyone about it."

Harley clapped a hand to her mouth, sobbing. "Oh my God…you mean she's dead?"

"We don't know that – it's just a theory," said Joker. "She could have gone into hiding somewhere knowing that the DA was after her, which is why she hasn't made contact. I wouldn't give up hope just yet, Miss Quinzel."

She nodded, the tears trickling down her face. "I'm sorry I don't have better news for you…" began Joker.

"It's not your fault," she murmured. "You're doing everything you can. I really appreciate it."

"Well, it's an absolute pleasure helping you out," said Joker, smiling at her. "And hey, this may all have a happy ending yet. Although that's not usually how these sorts of movies end…"

"Movies?" repeated Harley, confused.

"Never mind," said Joker, hastily. He stood up. "Anyway, I'll call if I get any more information…"

"You don't have to go," interrupted Harley, seizing his hand. She gazed up at him with her pleading, wide, blue eyes. "Stay. Please."

Joker nodded slowly, sitting back down. "I'm sorry, I just…can't be alone right now," she murmured. "I'll go outta my mind…it was bad enough today…I can't pass another lonely night not knowing…"

She buried her face in her hands, crying softly. "Hey," said Joker, tilting her chin up toward him. "It's gonna be ok. I promise."

"How do you know that?" she whispered.

"You have to trust me," he replied. "You do trust me, don't you, Harley?"

She nodded slowly, her tearful blue eyes gazing into his. "I do," she whispered. "I do."

Her red lips were parted, quivering slightly, and they were too tempting to resist. Joker pressed his own lips against them in a tender kiss, a tender kiss which grew more passionate as Harley threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands began to explore her body, and she slowly drew him down on top of her, their mouths never separating.

She suddenly drew away. "No!" she gasped, shoving him off her. "No, this is wrong, I'm sorry…I can't…I can't do this to you!"

"Uh…well…I'm not exactly objecting…" began Joker, confused.

"You have to leave," she gasped, standing up and wiping her lips. "You have to get out of here now! It's not safe!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Joker.

"Oh, wake up, J!" she cried. "You have to wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

She too began to glitch, and Joker's consciousness was again seared by a hazy, indistinct, dark figure standing above him. He couldn't make out the face, but somehow he knew this person intended to harm him – every muscle in his body was tense, warning him of danger, willing him to wake up and stop what was about to happen…

He suddenly faltered, falling to the ground. He heard the panicked beeping of machines, growing louder and faster as he felt himself losing control, falling down a never-ending chasm into darkness. He felt Harley above him, sobbing and shaking him, but her presence was drowned out as a black wave pulled him further and further into a deep, dark void, which he knew he wasn't ever waking up from.


	8. Chapter 8

Meanwhile, in reality, Harley sleepily opened her eyes at the sound of loud, desperate beeping. "Mmm…Mr. J?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and glancing over at his bed. "Mr. J!" she screamed, seeing a dark figure looming over him, with Joker's plug in its hand. She leapt to her feet, striking out at the intruder. "Get away from him!" she shouted, knocking over furniture and machines as she violently lashed out at the figure, who leapt toward the window and was gone. Harley seized Joker's plug, and slammed it back into the socket, just as Crane and Tetch re-entered the room.

"Harley, you're awake…" began Crane, happily.

"Where the hell have you two been?" demanded Harley, rounding on them. "You're supposed to be guarding him!"

"We were only gone five minutes," said Tetch. "We would have been back sooner but Jonathan dropped the refrigerator on my foot, because it turns out he actually does have less upper body strength than a woman, which as you can imagine greatly impaired my movement. I left a nurse watching him…"

He trailed off, looking around the empty room. "Who seems to have vanished," he finished.

"Yeah, well, in five minutes some crazy person managed to sneak in here and unplug Mr. J!" shrieked Harley. "I hope he's all right – he's gotta be all right!" she gasped, studying the monitors desperately, which were now beeping steadily again. "Get a doctor!" she shouted, rounding on them again. "God, I hope they didn't do any permanent damage," she whispered, stroking his hair back as Crane ran to fetch a doctor. "You're ok, puddin', you're gonna be ok," she whispered, kissing his forehead.

…

_"You're ok, puddin', you're gonna be ok…ok…ok…"_

"Please Red, he's gotta be ok!"

"He will be – he's just a little woozy from the drugs. My lipstick toxin has that effect."

"Red, this ain't right! None of this is! I don't want him hurt!"

"He won't be, as long as he tells us what we want to know."

Joker slowly opened his eyes to see Harley gazing at him anxiously, while a familiar, attractive, red-haired woman stood over him, smiling. "Oh, hi, Red," he murmured, grinning. He winced, trying and failing to sit up. "Ow, my aching skull – what the hell happened?"

"Harley drugged you with a kiss, using poisoned lipstick of my own invention," retorted Ivy, pulling out a lipstick. "I have several – one that knocks people out, one that kills them, one that gives them rashes, and one that controls their minds, which I'll use on you if you don't cooperate with me. The District Attorney found it incredibly potent, but he turned out to be more useless than I had initially hoped. Turns out having the cops on your side isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"So wait, you're the criminal mastermind in all this?" asked Joker. "Harvey Dent is just a victim of yours?"

"Oh, he's so clever," said Ivy, sarcastically. "What, you didn't think a woman could be a criminal mastermind?"

"No, I know lots of criminal mastermind dames," retorted Joker. "Never a successful one yet though, but I'm sure that's just a coincidence."

"Don't get smart with me, clown," she growled, seizing his tie and dragging him up to face her. "Where's the bat statue?"

"I have no idea," retorted Joker. "Is that really what all of this is about?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" demanded Ivy. "Do you have any idea how much money that thing is worth? It'd set Harley and me up for life – no more using men to achieve our ends, but two strong, capable, independent women, relying only on ourselves and our own brains, which thought up this scheme in the first place."

"Uh huh," said Joker, nodding. "So she's not really your sister, huh?" he asked, turning to Harley.

"Actually, she is," said Harley, nodding. "That part was true. She just never went missing. It's also true that Red always told me everything, and when she told me this plan for making us both rich, I went along with it initially. But I didn't know anybody would get hurt, especially not…"

She trailed off, gazing at him. "It's…it's not right, using people like this, and lying to 'em, and…"

"They're just men, Harley, and they'd do the same to us," interrupted Ivy. "Just like Jason Woodrue tried to screw me over when he first introduced me to the drug trade. He didn't expect me to have learned how to use toxins as well as I did. That was the last mistake he ever made, and after poisoning him with a kiss, I took over his criminal empire, such as it was. But the life of crime isn't for me, and I needed a really profitable piece to sell in order to break outta it forever and start a new life. And that's when I learned about the bat statuette coming into Gotham, and I knew that would be perfect. The only trick was how to get at it, and that's when I thought about using Harley. I could have come to you myself, of course, but Harley can sell the innocent, damsel-in-distress act much better than I can. Knowing men as I do, I knew you couldn't resist a blonde, pretty face like my sister's, especially when she's so helpless and vulnerable, which was my plan all along. I needed her to get close to you."

"Why?" asked Joker.

"Because you're close to Batman," retorted Ivy. "And Batman is close to Selina Kyle, aka the Catwoman, who was hired by a client to steal that bat statue from the museum. When I arrived there tonight, Selina had already absconded with the statue, but the client's henchmen were there trying to frame a rival gang for the crime. I left Selina a message with their bodies, strangled with a vine of thorns, and warning her what would happen if she didn't hand over the statue to me…"

"No, you left a message addressed to us," interrupted Joker. "PI."

Ivy stared at him. "Can't you read?" she demanded.

"No, not right now, I can't!" snapped Joker. "But Bats read it out loud to me…"

"It was _signed _PI – those are my initials," retorted Ivy. "PI for Poison Ivy. That's why the men all had rashes – that's my calling card. Because I'm Poison Ivy."

"Oh yeah, that kinda makes sense," agreed Joker. "See, this is a huge handicap when you're illiterate – things out of context can be completely misinterpreted…"

"Enough of your babbling, clown!" snapped Ivy. "Where is the statue?"

"I don't know!" retorted Joker. "Bats was gonna confront Selina about it and then call Harley's apartment!"

Ivy looked at Harley. "You didn't receive a phone call, did you?"

Harley shook her head. "Something must have happened to him, or Selina, or both," said Ivy. "Maybe her client didn't wanna pay her in the end and decided to get rid of her."

"Who is her client?" demanded Joker.

"I can't tell you that," retorted Ivy.

"Because you don't know, right?" asked Joker.

Ivy nodded slowly. "Whoever it is, they're shrouded in secrecy. Using a vast network to communicate so nobody can be tracked. I tried interrogating the henchmen as I strangled them, but not one of them could give me a name."

"Well, if Bats is in trouble, I wanna help," said Joker, getting slowly to his feet as his head swirled. "I know you set me up and drugged me, but let's call a temporary truce. We find Bats, and Selina's client, and your statue, together."

Ivy studied him carefully, and nodded. "All right, let's go."

"No, Red, it's too dangerous!" exclaimed Harley. "Let's just call this whole thing off! No matter how valuable it is, this bat statue isn't worth dying for!"

"But Bats is," replied Joker, turning to her. "He'd do the same for me – he's saved my life countless times. And it's hard to explain, but…I think I can only save _my _life if I see this through to the end. There's something going on in the shadows that I can't see yet…but I will. I'm gonna bring it into the light."

Harley stared at him with tear-filled eyes. "Be careful," she whispered. "When we kissed…that wasn't just part of the setup. It was real."

"I know, sweets," he murmured. "I know…wherever I am, I can trust you," he said, touching her cheek. "You're loyal and dependable and…you won't ever give up on me. So trust me when I say I'm coming back to you, huh?"

She nodded. "I will," she whispered, kissing him softly.

"See ya around, kid," he said, following Ivy out the door.

"I hope so," Harley murmured.

…

"He's stable now, and there doesn't appear to be any long-term damage," said the doctor, as he straightened up after examining the Joker. "Of course we won't know for sure until he wakes up. _If_ he wakes up," he added. "But I doubt his mind will be any more disturbed than usual."

"Thank goodness for that," sighed Tetch, relieved. "I never would have forgiven myself if he had been hurt due to my neglect. But I think you seriously need to re-evaluate your staff here if you're hiring the kind of people who would prefer to see a patient dead."

"Well, this particular patient has polarized many people," retorted the doctor. "Not that I can blame them. Some think it would be doing the world a favor to pull the plug on him."

"That's not your call, is it?" snapped Crane, who was trying to comfort Harley. "Your job as a doctor is to heal, not judge a patient."

"I'm not judging him," retorted the doctor. "But I'm also not judging those who would prefer to see him dead, after all he's done to terrorize the people of this city. Anyway, I don't think the alleged nurse was actually anyone who worked here. There's nobody who fits Mr. Tetch's description assigned to this floor."

"They could have come up from another floor," suggested Tetch.

"Possibly, but I think it's more likely that someone disguised themselves as a nurse and waited for the opportune moment to let in their accomplice," said the doctor. "Nobody looks too closely at the medical staff, as you've seen."

"Well, the list of people who want the Joker dead is probably a mile long," said Crane. "I think we're very unlikely to narrow it down, even if Jervis or I got a good look at her, which we didn't."

"I got a good look at _him_," murmured Harley.

"Who? The one who unplugged Joker?" asked Crane.

Harley nodded. "I dunno who the nurse was, and I don't really care. But I know who I saw with Mr. J's plug in his hand. He's always secretly wanted him dead, and he came to finish what he started."

She took a deep breath and murmured, "It was Batman."


	9. Chapter 9

"Batman?" repeated Crane. "No, that's impossible – he wouldn't voluntarily kill anyone, not even Joker…"

"You don't think hitting him with his car was voluntary?" demanded Harley.

"No, I think it was an accident," said Crane. "Which is why it would have been poetic justice if he _had _killed him – the guilt would consume Batman, because technically he was responsible. He took a life through no choice of his own, and yet it was through his actions that it was taken all the same. But thank God that didn't happen," he added, hastily.

"It does seem an unusual thing for Batman to do," said Tetch, thoughtfully. "Unless almost killing Joker has made him snap completely, which is possible. Or unless it wasn't a voluntary action on his part."

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again, you need to keep your ridiculous mind control technology safely locked up!" snapped Crane. "Other people getting their hands on it could be disastrous, as you've seen!"

"My technology _is _safely locked up," retorted Tetch. "And it's far from ridiculous. But there are other ways to control people's minds than through my hat cards. Assuming that it _was _Batman, of course, and not somebody impersonating him or something."

"You think I can't recognize Batman?" demanded Harley.

"Well, not if it was Batman, and yet not Batman," replied Tetch.

"Oh, here we go with the nonsense again!" exclaimed Harley, throwing up her hands.

"What I mean is that it could be Batman in appearance, and yet not Batman in actuality," replied Tetch. "Whether he's mind controlled, or it's some kind of clone, or even a robot."

"A robot?" repeated Harley. "You think I can't tell a real person from a robot?"

"Not if it's a particularly convincing robot," replied Tetch. "AI is the future, after all, and you remember Riddler built that robot girlfriend for himself the other year."

"Yes, and it short-circuited and severely burned him in a rather sensitive area," said Crane, nodding. "Which serves him right. But that thing could barely understand sentences, let alone convince even a halfway intelligent person it wasn't a robot. And Harley is much more than halfway intelligent."

"So perhaps this has something to do with someone more intelligent than Riddler, though I'm sure he would contest that's impossible," said Tetch. "But then I do believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast. Not that there's any indication that this _is_ a robot – I still don't entirely dismiss my Batman just snapped theory."

"Actually, I'm more inclined to go with the mind control one," said Crane. "But how else could it be done if not for your hat cards?"

Tetch sighed. "Well, when I was studying the ways to control a human mind, there were several routes to try. I ended up going with the one involving wires that sent electric pulses to the synapses of the brain – very complicated stuff for those not familiar with neurology. But another route open to me was hypnotism."

"Hypnotism?" repeated Harley. "You mean that quack science that performing magicians use to entertain gullible audiences?"

"Well, obviously all science can be bastardized by quackery," retorted Tetch. "But from the little research I did on it, it seemed like a sincere practitioner could create a legitimate effect – putting aside all theories of the conscious and unconscious mind, studies on the brain show hypnotism to have a genuine effect in therapy, for instance. I see no reason why a capable scientist couldn't enhance that effect to make a subject do things against his will – in this case, Batman killing Joker."

"I suppose it's possible," conceded Crane. "After all, if Batman does subconsciously want to kill the Joker, if that desire were already present within him, any psychiatrist knows that he then has the potential to do it. And potential merged with the will to carry it out, whether his own or somebody else's…"

He trailed off. "But we're right back to where we started. There are thousands of people who could want to kill the Joker."

"But how many of them want _Batman_ to kill the Joker?" asked Tetch. "You see, that's very specific. You, for instance, enjoy the poetic justice of that possibility, but what if someone wanted it to happen for more than poetic justice?"

"For what then?" asked Crane.

"I don't know that," said Tetch. "But one of Batman's allies might."

"Right. And how do you suggest we contact Batman's allies?" asked Crane. "Or convince them to help us if we did?"

"All we can do is ask," said Tetch, shrugging as he headed for the door. "I'm heading to GCPD – you should come along, Jonathan."

"Why? To be arrested?" demanded Crane. "You can do that on your own. I'll stay here and guard Joker with Harley."

"Actually, I'd prefer some time alone with him, if you don't mind, Johnny," said Harley. "I almost lost him, and…I just need some time alone to process that."

"Of course, my dear," said Crane, reluctantly. He sighed. "GCPD it is then. We'll call you if we find out anything," he said, heading for the door.

He shut it, leaving Harley alone with Joker's unconscious body. She gazed at him, and then slowly climbed into bed with him, curling up against him and trying to ignore all the tubes and beeping machines. "Nobody's gonna lay a finger on you again," she whispered, putting her arms around him and shutting her eyes. "I'm here, and I ain't ever leaving you again."

…

"Do you know where Selina's apartment is?" asked Ivy, as she and Joker walked the darker than usual streets of Gotham.

"I do," replied Joker. "Or at least I did in another life. So we'll check there first."

"Oh, typical man," sighed Ivy. "You're actually so despicable that you're sleeping with your partner's girlfriend on the side, huh?"

"What? No!" snapped Joker. "I don't know where the alley cat has been, and I certainly don't want whatever she's got! Bats is a much braver man than me to get involved with her. I found out where she lived in order to play a prank on her - I broke in one night when she was out and fed her cats some chocolate, which is apparently poisonous to them. Unfortunately all it did was make 'em vomit all over the carpet, but that's still a good punchline, so it all worked out."

"Well, that's still despicable, but I guess I can't call you a typical man for that," conceded Ivy.

"You're a lot more reasonable than your counterpart, Weed Lady," retorted Joker, as they climbed the stairs to Selina's apartment. Joker knocked, but received no response.

"Need some lock-picks?" asked Ivy, reaching into her pocket.

"A little subtle for my taste, but what the hell," sighed Joker, taking them from her and fiddling the lock. He opened the door to see that the entire apartment was completely trashed.

"Looks like there was a struggle," commented Ivy, noting all the broken furniture and pictures knocked off the walls.

"Gee, ya think?" asked Joker, sarcastically.

"Probably people looking for the bat statue," continued Ivy. "I wonder if they found it."

"My sense is they wouldn't have left until they did," said Joker.

"Or until they had someone in their clutches who could tell them where it is," said Ivy.

"You think Selina's been kidnapped?" asked Joker. "Along with Bats?"

Ivy shrugged. "I dunno. The only thing we can do is look for clues, although that might be hard when this place is such a mess."

She took out a cigarette and put it to her lips. "You got a light?" she asked, turning to Joker.

"Yeah, but…isn't that technically a plant?" asked Joker, slowly. "How can you bear to smoke it?"

"Because everybody smokes here in Gotham," retorted Ivy. "It's just that kinda town."

"I guess that's fair," said Joker, lighting her cigarette and helping himself to one as he looked around the apartment. "This damage is so thorough you almost wonder if it's staged," he commented.

"What do you mean?" asked Ivy.

"I mean the care taken to destroy literally everything," said Joker. "I understand going through drawers and taking paintings off walls looking for secret hiding places, but absolutely nothing remains intact in this apartment."

"Maybe it's a warning message," said Ivy. "Like me leaving Selina all those bodies to find."

"Yeah, but who's the message for?" asked Joker.

He didn't have to wonder for much longer – the telephone, which was the one untouched thing in the apartment, suddenly rang. Joker shared a look with Ivy, and then picked it up. "Hello?" he said.

"We have Batman and Catwoman," said a strange, muffled voice on the other end. "Bring the statue to the Ace Chemicals Building if you want to see them alive again."

"Wait, I don't have the statue…" began Joker, but the phone clicked off.

"Why would anyone think you have the statue?" asked Ivy, confused.

"It's probably not directed at me specifically – I doubt they know who I am," retorted Joker. "It's directed at whoever came to this apartment – I guess they figured someone was going to bring the statue to Selina."

"But I thought she stole it in the first place," said Ivy.

"You don't know that – you just assumed she did, and so did I," said Joker. "What if she was just the go-between for her client, and somebody else stole the statue, and was going to bring it to her?"

"I guess that's possible," said Ivy, slowly. "But then who stole it? And who was bringing it here?"

"I'm thinking," said Joker, puffing on his cigarette.

"Well, think harder," snapped Ivy. There was silence for several minutes, until Ivy spoke at last. "Look, you might not want to hear this, but…what if it was Batman?"

"What if what was Batman?" asked Joker.

"What if he stole the statue?" she said. "To give to Selina. She'd be expecting him, and him coming to see her wouldn't arouse any suspicion…"

"Bats doesn't steal things," retorted Joker. "And the statue was already gone when we arrived at the museum together…"

"Harley said he left the office shortly after her this morning," interrupted Ivy.

"Yeah, to see Harvey Dent…" began Joker.

"He didn't see Harvey Dent," retorted Ivy. "I was with Harvey all day, and he received no visitors. So what was Batman doing instead of interviewing him like he said?"

"I dunno, but probably something completely innocent," sniffed Joker.

"So why would he lie about it?" asked Ivy.

"How should I know?" demanded Joker. "And even if he did steal it, which I don't believe, because Bats isn't a thief, whoever was on the phone said they've kidnapped him too. If he had the statue and was bringing it to Selina tonight, they wouldn't be threatening me with his death now, because they'd have the statue."

"So he didn't bring it," said Ivy. "He hid it before he came, because he figured it was a setup. Maybe he even figured out who the client is, and decided to hide it away from them."

Joker was silent. "So where is the statue?" he demanded.

Ivy shrugged. "You know Batman better than anyone. Where would he hide something that valuable?"

Joker blew out a cloud of smoke, and then slowly smiled. "I've got an idea," he murmured.


	10. Chapter 10

After sending Batman to the Gotham Fine Art Museum, Barbara Gordon continued to monitor Gotham for any signs of trouble, but the city seemed quiet. About fifteen minutes after Batman had left her, she received a voice communication from him telling her that it had been a false alarm, and there was nothing there. Barbara had acknowledged the communication, passed the surveillance job on to Alfred, and headed for the elevator. She made the short trek from the Clocktower to the Gotham City Police Department.

"Hey, stranger," said Detective Bullock, not looking up from his computer as she entered.

"Hi Harvey – is Dad around?" asked Barbara. "We're meant to be having a father daughter evening."

"Oh, going somewhere nice?" asked Bullock.

"It's Dad's pick this time," replied Barbara. "So probably not," she added.

Bullock grinned. "I'll go get him," he said, standing up and heading for Gordon's office.

Barbara waited for him to return, catching snatches of phone conversations and casual chat. Which abruptly ceased as the doors to the precinct opened and revealed two figures.

"A very good evening to you all," said Jervis Tetch, standing there and removing his top hat as he entered. "I was wondering if any of you fine officers of the law knew how to get in touch with Batman's allies."

"This is not a trick," added Jonathan Crane, following him inside while looking around warily, fear gas syringes primed. "So there's no need to arrest us, and if you try, you'll all get the chance to try out my latest toxin. I've also strapped vials of fear gas all over myself, in case any of you try to shoot first and ask questions later. Everyone just stay back, unless you'd all like to take part in an experiment of the effect of mass terror on law enforcement officials."

"Jonathan, put it away!" snapped Tetch. "We won't get anywhere by threatening people! This is a genuine call for help – Batman appears to be very unstable, and it's in our mutual interests to find someone close to him to figure out why."

"What do you mean unstable?" asked Barbara, who was absolutely positive this was a trick. "You mean he's foiling your ridiculous schemes?"

"I mean he's trying to pull the plug on the Joker," retorted Tetch. "Which he did attempt to do, but was thwarted, about half an hour ago."

The police officers began murmuring amongst themselves – the room seemed largely nonchalant and even supportive of the idea, but Barbara frowned. "I think there must be some mistake…" she began.

"So did we, initially," said Tetch, nodding. "But Harley swears that's who she saw. I floated a theory about a clone or a robot, and was shot down, but Jonathan at least seems to think my mind control theory may be sound. The question is who would want to control Batman's mind to make him murder the Joker? And we were hoping one of his allies might have a clue about that."

"I'm really not particularly concerned about what happens to the Joker," said Commissioner Gordon, who had emerged from his office. "And if you think I'm gonna turn on the Batsignal in the hope one of Batman's allies turns up and talks him outta killing him, you're crazier than I already think you are."

"Dad, I'm sure Batman doesn't want to kill the Joker," said Barbara.

"I certainly wouldn't blame him if he did," retorted Gordon. "And I certainly wouldn't mind, after what he did to you."

"Yeah, for once Bats and I are on the same side," said Bullock, nodding. "Let him pull the plug on the freak – hope he dies nice and slow, choking on his own laughter."

"It just doesn't seem like something Batman would do," said Barbara.

"You some kinda Batman expert now?" asked Bullock. "Jesus, your whole family is batty for the guy, Comish," he sighed. "It's an unhealthy obsession if you ask me," he added, reaching for a donut.

"Dad, you know he wouldn't kill anyone," said Barbara. "And I know you wouldn't either. Not even the Joker."

Gordon said nothing. "It still won't do any good to involve his allies," he said. "I can't imagine he's any more open and honest with them than he is with me. They won't know anything about who'd wanna make him do this."

"Maybe not," agreed Barbara, slowly. "But it's not the first time someone has pressured him to try to take a life to save the world. Because I'm…interested in Batman, I've researched a lot about him," she said, turning to the computer and typing in a search. "My best guess is that this is the work of the League of Assassins, also known as the League of Shadows. Their leader, Ra's al Ghul, is a megalomaniacal nutjob who's lived for centuries, believing he's going to usher in some new utopia of peace and harmony by murdering the undesirables of the world, specifically criminals. And he's always wanted Batman to join him and his daughter in this crusade."

"Daughter?" repeated Crane. "There was a female accomplice who disguised herself as a nurse and opened the hospital window to let Batman in – maybe her?"

"Maybe," agreed Barbara, pulling up a photo of Talia al Ghul.

"That _is _her," said Tetch, nodding. "I would swear by Carroll on it."

"Batman has always been overly friendly with her, certainly more than I would be with anyone who wanted to commit genocide," said Barbara, lightly. "But then sometimes men don't think too much when a pretty face is involved. Well, look who I'm talking to," she added, shrugging. "If it's not Alice, it's Harley, right?"

"Oh my God, how does everyone know?!" demanded Crane.

"If this man has lived for centuries, he probably possesses skills hidden from mere mortals," said Tetch. "Hypnosis, for instance?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," said Barbara, nodding. "If he's discovered the secret of immortality, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to see him discovering other supposedly impossible powers. And maybe if he could make Batman kill Joker, and convince him that he really did take Joker's life for the greater good, then he figures Batman's only objection to joining his cause would disappear. Maybe he thinks if he crosses that line once, it'll be easy for him to cross it again. And maybe he just rates the Joker as the most undesirable of all undesirables, and thinks since Batman created him, it's his right to kill him."

"Those do all sound like ideas megalomaniacs would have," agreed Tetch, nodding. "Not that I'm in the habit of hanging around those kinds of people."

"Sure," said Barbara, looking pointedly at Crane. "Not like you live with one or anything."

"How dare you…" began Crane.

"If this Ra's al Ghul were in Gotham, do you know where he'd be?" interrupted Tetch. "I'm sure Harley wants to stop him from trying anything like this again."

"Well, I'm no detective," said Barbara. "Just the daughter of the police commissioner. But according to this police database, an alarm was tripped at the Gotham Fine Art Museum earlier this evening. It's been a quiet night otherwise, so it's certainly worth checking out."

"Yes, that's a solid lead," agreed Tetch, nodding. "You see, Jonathan, we didn't even need one of Batman's allies to help us," he said, heading for the door. "Daughter of the police commissioner works just as well."

"She has a fairly bright mind, but she could certainly use some manners," grumbled Crane, as they left the precinct together.

"Should we go after them, Comish?" asked Bullock.

"Nope, we've got a father daughter dinner planned, and I'm not letting those two ruin it," said Barbara, as she sent a discreet text to Alfred and Robin, telling them to check up on Bruce. "Come on, Dad. I'm sure Batman can handle whatever comes up."

"I just don't get why everyone loves that freak so much," sighed Bullock, as Gordon reached for his jacket and then wheeled his daughter out of the station. "You can do so much better, kid!" he called after Barbara.

"Believe me, I know," she sighed.


	11. Chapter 11

"You think Batman hid the statue in your office?" asked Ivy, her eyebrows raised skeptically as Joker unlocked the door.

"Hiding stuff in plain sight is a trick I taught him," said Joker. "It's the best kinda hiding place - right under people's noses. He's got a lot of bat-themed stuff in our office, because he's Batman and all. It wouldn't surprise me if he's hidden the statue among one of his little Bat-gadgets so nobody would notice it. Selina said it was coated in black enamel, so unless you knew what you were looking for, you wouldn't recognize how valuable it is."

"I guess that makes sense," said Ivy, as they entered the office. "Boy, you weren't kidding about the bat stuff," she commented as they entered. "Kinda an unhealthy obsession, really."

"It's a gimmick," said Joker, shrugging. "We all have 'em – you with your plants, me with my clown stuff. It just strengthens my belief that Bats isn't any different to the rest of us. But I still don't like your thief theory – I just can't believe that Batman would go against his principles like that, and his principles have always been far too goody two shoes for my taste. I mean, aside from the casual violence, which I agree with him on, but he'd never steal something, especially not something that was just gonna make him rich. Bats is the kinda guy who can twist morally repugnant concepts to positives if done for the right reasons in his head – hence beating up criminals. And sure, maybe he'd steal from the rich to give to the poor, like Robin Hood. But he would never steal a valuable statue for his own personal gain. Bats has never been that self-serving."

"Well, it looks like he is now," said Ivy, reaching out for the black statuette which was sitting in plain sight on Batman's desk. "Hey, maybe Selina changed him – women can influence men like that."

"He's been involved with the cat for a long time, and his principles haven't changed," said Joker. "Nobody can influence Bats – believe me, I've tried. But he's as stuck in his ways as a train heading for a ravine after the tracks over it have been blown up. And he's very likely to end up crashed and broken in a pile of flaming rubble."

"Well, he's your problem," said Ivy, shrugging as she headed for the door with the statue. "I've got what I came for – Harley and me will see you around."

"No dice, Weed Lady," snapped Joker. "We're taking that statue to Ace Chemicals to save Bats."

"I'm not," retorted Ivy. "I have no love for Batman or Catwoman. I couldn't care less if they died."

"But you could care less if you died, right, toots?" asked Joker, pulling out his gun.

"You wouldn't shoot me – Harley would never forgive you," snapped Ivy.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," replied Joker. "Don't push me, dollface. Besides, don't pretend you're not curious to find out who this client is."

"I'm not curious enough to risk my life to find out, no," retorted Ivy. "And I'm definitely not curious enough to let whoever they are get their hands on this. I'll send you a check for helping me find the statue, how about that?"

"Yeah, I really believe you, toots," said Joker sarcastically. "Just hand over the statue now."

"You think you can get a shot off before me?" asked Ivy, who had her own gun primed in her other hand. "Because I'm willing to risk it. You feel lucky, J?"

Joker said nothing, but put his gun away. "Ok, you can keep it," he said. "Let's just shake hands and part as friends."

"Really?" asked Ivy.

"Hey, I know when I'm beat," said Joker, shrugging. "And it's only fitting that a dame's the one who beat me. You're a credit to your gender, toots. Just let me shake hands with the woman who bested the Joker."

He held out his hand, and Ivy took it, and was instantly shocked into unconsciousness by the joy buzzer. She fell to the ground, and Joker retrieved the statue from her. "Sucker," he muttered. "Ain't been a dame yet who can best the Joker. Good thing nobody really knows me here, or they'd know better than to shake my hand. And speaking of not knowing people, why did you steal this, Bats?" he asked, examining the statue. "You had to have a good reason, right? Well, I guess there's no sense speculating when I could ask you," he said, heading for the door. "And I really hope I'm not too late."

…

Meanwhile, in reality, Batman opened his eyes to see Robin bending over him. "Hey, Bruce, you ok?" he asked.

"I think so," muttered Batman. "Ow, what happened?" he asked, as a burst of pain shot through his skull as he sat up.

"I don't know," said Robin. "You were just lying on the ground when I got here."

"Here," repeated Batman, looking around. "The Gotham Fine Art Museum. Wait, I went to investigate something and…got hit in the head," he muttered, feeling his skull.

"That's not all you did," said Robin. "Barbara texted to say that Crane and Tetch had been to GCPD claiming you tried to pull the plug on the Joker."

Batman stared at him. "No, that's impossible…" he began.

"Not impossible," said a quiet voice from the shadows. "Not when you are willing. And you _are _willing, Batman. You can say whatever you like, but deep down, you wanted to do it. Otherwise you could not have been made to do it, not by me or any other person."

"Ra's al Ghul," muttered Batman, as the man stepped into the light. "Why…"

"It was too perfect to resist," interrupted Ra's. "You finally crossed your line, albeit imperfectly. You almost killed the Joker, and deep down you wanted to finish the job. I came here to help you do that. And after you realize how much good you've done by killing him, after you realize how foolish you were to have been against taking lives for so long, you can join me at last in doing what needs to be done, to save Gotham and the world."

"You can't control my mind…" began Batman.

"I did not," interrupted Ra's. "All I did was give it a little push. But the desire was already there, and you know that, Detective. That's why you hit him with your car – it was no accident. It was an intentional act on your part, an act that should have ended in Joker's death, and your freedom from your ridiculous code of honor, which has cost so many lives. The Joker has murdered and maimed thousands, including your allies. You cannot argue that his death would be a blessing."

"That doesn't matter," retorted Batman. "I don't have the right to take his life – that would make me just as bad as he is…"

"No, it would make you the hero you deserve to be," interrupted Ra's. "A hero makes tough decisions and sacrifices. And a hero slays the monsters in his midst. The Joker is a monster, and you have a duty to slay him to protect the people of Gotham from his murderous insanity."

"It certainly takes a lunatic to know a lunatic," agreed Batman. "I'll never join you, Ra's."

Ra's smiled. "We'll see, I suppose," he murmured, holding up his hand. "Batman, restrain the brat. He's been infected by your no killing madness, and would try to stop you, so he must be incapacitated."

"Yeah, nice try…" began Robin, but he was stunned as Batman suddenly shot his grappling hook around him. "Bruce, what gives?" he demanded.

"He is under my control," murmured Ra's, nodding at the glassy emptiness of Batman's gaze. "He is unable to resist me when I give him a command. Again, assuming the desire is there already – I guess he really does resent your interference into his business. Now come along, Detective, we must return to the hospital and complete our work," he murmured, as Robin struggled futilely to free himself. "We were unprepared for resistance before, but now we are armed. And no one will stop us this time."


	12. Chapter 12

"Bats?" called Joker, as he entered the apparently abandoned Ace Chemicals factory. "Oh Bats? Or whoever's kidnapped Bats? I got your statue…"

"Thanks for bringing it," murmured a voice. "Now hand it over."

"Not until I see that Bats is ok," retorted Joker.

The factory lights snapped on, and Joker saw Batman standing next to Selina on a platform above a vat of acid. "Hey, you two are free," said Joker, climbing up to join them. "What happened to the people who kidnapped you?"

"There was no kidnapping," said Batman, taking the statue from him. "We just needed you to bring this, and I figured threatening me was the best way to make you do that."

"Why?" asked Joker. "You coulda just taken it from the office yourself…"

"I could have," agreed Batman, nodding. "But I needed you to come here because it's a nice, secluded, out of the way place where you won't be found."

"What...are you talking about?" asked Joker, warily.

Batman sighed, and pulled out his gun, pointing it at Joker. "I'm sorry about this, J, really," he murmured. "But Selina and I don't want a third person getting a piece of this," he said, nodding at the statue. "I mean, I know we've been through a lot together, but when that amount of money is involved…well, there are more important things than friendship, you know?"

"No, I don't know," snapped Joker. "We're friends for life, and you wouldn't kill your best buddy. Hell, you wouldn't kill anyone…"

He was cut off as Batman fired his gun into Selina's face, and then kicked her body into the acid below. "Ok, I stand corrected," said Joker, putting up his hands.

"Actually, I didn't much feel like splitting this with two people, let alone three," murmured Batman. "I told Selina to spread a rumor that she was working for some secret, shady network and hired by an important client, but the truth is, I set it all up with her. We hired guys to make others going after the statue think it was a big network operation and stay away. The only person we really had to get out of the way in the end was you, and so we set up this big phony robbery and disappearance, which I knew you couldn't resist solving. But with this kinda dough, I don't have to be some crummy PI stuck in a cramped, ugly office all day," he said, smiling at the bat statue. "I'll be as rich as Bruce Wayne, spending my life swanning around from party to party aboard a fancy yacht."

"But buddy, that's no way to live!" exclaimed Joker. "You and me, we're the same! We would never be happy with peace and quiet like that! We need the conflict, the chaos, the violence! We crave it! And you can't be this far gone to have forgotten that! Although you did just kill your girlfriend, so maybe…"

Batman cocked the gun, pointing it at Joker's face. "I'm sorry, J, really," he murmured. "You should believe that. After all we've been through, it kinda hurts to do this. But then I think deep down, you always knew it was gonna end like this. Goodbye, Joker," he murmured, tightening his finger on the trigger.

Joker desperately tried to reach for the gun in his pocket, but suddenly a shot rang out, and Batman stumbled back. "You stay away from him!" shrieked a familiar voice.

"Harley!" gasped Joker, turning to see her aiming her gun at Batman. "How did you find me?"

"Red said you'd be here," replied Harley. "She called me in a rage from your office and was in no condition to retrieve the statue, so I said I would. And I'm glad I got here when I did – you ok, puddin'?" she asked, gazing at him in concern.

"I'm fine," said Joker. "Just…baffled by this," he murmured, staring at Batman. "This ain't you, Bats. This…this _ain't_ you," he repeated, beaming suddenly. "You were right, kid, it's just like Scooby Doo! And in Scooby Doo, it's never a real monster, and always a guy in a mask!" he exclaimed, reaching forward to try to rip Batman's mask off.

"Get the hell away from me!" snarled Batman, firing the gun which just barely missed shooting Joker's fingers off.

"Ok, maybe it is Bats," conceded Joker. "But it's gotta be some kinda mind control or something…he'd never do this. I know him…"

"Do you?" interrupted Batman. "Or do you just think you know me? After all, the Batman you knew would never have hit you with his car in reality, and I did that too."

"How…how do you know about…that?" stammered Joker.

"I know everything, J," murmured Batman. "And I know that my life would always be a lot better without you in it. With you gone, there will be no one to really challenge me in Gotham, and I can do whatever I want. You see, I've realized crime really does pay. You thought Batman was powerful when he was on the side of the law – wait until he joins the side of the lawless. There will be no one to stop me."

"We'll stop you…" began Harley.

Batman fired his gun again, hitting Harley full in the chest. She fell to the ground, and Joker raced over to her, cradling her gently. "Mr. J…I tried…but I can't protect you anymore," she whispered, raising her hand to his face. "You gotta wake up. Please, puddin', you gotta wake up…"

Her hand dropped as her eyes shut. "No!" shouted Joker, rounding on Batman. "No, I won't let you do this!" he shouted, pulling out his gun and firing at Batman's face. The chamber clicked as he pulled the trigger and was met with an empty echo.

"We share an office, buddy – it was easy enough to take the bullets from your gun," murmured Batman. "That's what you get from trusting somebody too much, J. Nobody's perfect, and somebody is always gonna betray you. Like I said, I'm sorry it has to be this way, but you've been a thorn in my side for far too long. And you're not laughing now, clown," he murmured, aiming the gun at Joker again. "Why not? Isn't this the ultimate punchline you've always wanted? Batman besting you, and killing you, and becoming a bad guy? Taking your place as the greatest supercriminal in Gotham?"

"No!" shouted Joker. "That's never been a dream of mine! My dream is that we're friends, buddies, working together to make the world a better place for painful fun and homicidal laughter!"

"Yeah, but think about it," said Batman, shrugging. "If you were me, you wouldn't trust anybody too much like yourself. You're just too unpredictable. You'd think it was a setup, and you'd end up killing me before I could kill you. Well, you were a little late this time, pal," he murmured, cocking the gun. "Goodbye, Joker."

…

Harley had received a phone call from Crane telling her what they had found out, and saying that he and Tetch were heading over to the Gotham Fine Art Museum now. Harley almost wished she could join them in finding whoever this was and making them pay herself, but she wasn't leaving Joker again. She remained curled up against his softly breathing body, until she heard the window to Joker's room open again, and sat up.

"Get the hell out of here…" she began, as Batman climbed into the room, but she fell back as Batman shot her with a grappling hook, which wrapped around her body and knocked her to the ground.

"You can kill her next," murmured Ra's al Ghul, as he climbed in through the window. "But first I want her to witness this. I want everyone to witness this," he added, as Talia al Ghul re-entered the room through the doorway, holding a video camera. "Batman, the hero of Gotham, finally performs the ultimate heroic act, killing the Joker. Do it, and make it quick this time," he said, handing Batman a gun.

Batman aimed the gun at Joker. "No!" shrieked Harley, fighting against the rope. "I won't let you! I won't…"

"You will shut up!" hissed Talia, kicking at Harley. "You are the lowest of the low, some pathetic, submissive creature blindly serving a psychotic abuser!"

"I'd take a look in the mirror if I were you, lady!" hissed Harley. "Mr. J, you have to wake up, please!"

Batman cocked the gun, aiming for Joker's face…

Joker waited for the end in his head, but instead of a bullet, a burst of light suddenly seared through his brain, revealing Batman standing over him with a gun…which he slowly lowered.

"No," Batman growled. "No, I won't do this. You can't make me do this…"

"I can make you do anything you secretly want to do!" shouted Ra's. "And you want to kill the Joker, even though you're too ashamed to admit it! So just do it! Pull the trigger!"

"No!" shouted Batman, throwing the gun away as he clutched his head. "No, I won't be a murderer!"

Ra's glared at him. "Fine, I'll do it myself," he muttered, heading over to retrieve the gun. "I can see we still need to tackle these issues, but I'm sure with patience, we can get through to you, Detective."

Ra's pointed the gun at Joker, but Batman jumped in front of him, shielding Joker with his body. "You kill him, and you'll have to kill me too," he growled.

"A regrettable choice on your part," murmured Ra's. "But unlike you, Detective, I am willing to make that sacrifice."

"Father, no!" exclaimed Talia.

"He has been given chance after chance, daughter," murmured Ra's. "If he chooses to join with criminals, he must share their fate."

Ra's cocked the gun and Batman's body tensed, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, buddy," a familiar voice murmured. "But I got this."

"Mr. J!" shrieked Harley joyfully, as Joker sat up, ripping out his wires, flinging them at Ra's, and tightening them around his throat. Ra's choked, falling forward and dropping the gun, which Batman caught.

Talia raced to help her father up, hissing, "Father, let's go, it's too late! We will kill the clown another time – we have all the time in the world!"

"Yes, I do," agreed Ra's, glaring at Joker. "But he doesn't," he said, pointing at Joker. "His days are numbered, Detective, and you are foolish to try and prolong his miserable life of pain, violence, and destruction. You were so close to doing the right thing…but maybe next time, you will," he murmured, heading for the door. "And there will always be a next time."

Batman watched them leave, and then went to go untie Harley, who raced over to embrace Joker. "Oh my God, you're awake!" she gasped, hugging him tightly and covering him with kisses. "You're awake and alive and…it's a miracle!"

"Yeah, good to see you alive too, kid," murmured Joker, patting her head. "Though it's thanks to you that I was trapped in here in the first place, wasn't it?"

"I'm sorry, puddin'!" sobbed Harley. "I'm sorry, you're right, I nearly killed you! You should never forgive me…"

Joker silenced her with a kiss. "Well, how many times have I nearly killed you?" he murmured, drawing away and grinning. "Gotta let you have one, don't I? Fair's fair, after all."

"Oh, Mr. J!" she sobbed, embracing him again and bursting into tears.

Batman said nothing, placing the gun down on a chair and heading for the door. "Bats," said Joker. He turned. "Thanks," said Joker, nodding at him.

Batman nodded back. "It was the least I could do, since I almost killed you," he muttered.

"Yeah, you did," agreed Joker. "But you refused to go all the way, and I know that's something I can always depend on with you," he added, grinning. "I never really thought about it before, but…we have the law between us, and that's a good thing. I always thought it'd be great to have you on my side, but now I realize I'm glad I can always count on you to be a good guy on the side of order and justice. We can't both be criminals, that'd be…crazy."

He grinned again. "But we're always pals, aren't we, Bats?"

"In your dreams," muttered Batman, leaving the room.

"Yeah," sighed Joker, leaning back on his pillows and shutting his eyes as Harley curled up next to him again. "That's the stuff that dreams are made of."


	13. Chapter 13

"Aw, it's gonna be so nice to return to my sweet little ha-ha-hacienda!" sighed Joker, as he was escorted from Gotham General in handcuffs a few days later.

"Since Johnny and Jervis were taken back to Arkham after being attacked by Robin in the Gotham Fine Art Museum the other night, I asked them and the rest of the gang to prepare you a welcome home party, puddin'," said Harley, who was also being escorted into the waiting police van in handcuffs. She had stayed by Joker's side at the hospital under a constant police guard for the few days he had spent recovering from his ordeal. "I know everyone is just as excited as I am that you're back to normal – Red said she had a special surprise to celebrate you feeling better that was gonna knock you out."

"Oh Pammie, your attempts at subtle never work!" chuckled Joker, as he took a seat in the back of the van with Harley clinging on to him. "Gotta say, pooh, I'm a little nervous about being back in a vehicle, actually," he murmured. "I might start to have flashbacks…"

"Don't worry, puddin', the cops are gonna drive nice and slow, aren't you, pigs?" demanded Harley, whirling around and glaring at the driver.

"Yeah, the last thing we wanna do is upset the Joker," said the guard, sarcastically. "If getting in a wreck would actually kill him, it might be worth it," he muttered under his breath.

Joker and Harley shared a look, and then waited for the van to head out. "Oh God, Harley, it's happening!" shouted Joker, clapping his hands to his head suddenly. "I'm having a flashback!"

"Oh my God, puddin'!" cried Harley as he fell to the ground, screaming and convulsing. "C'mon, uncuff him!" she shouted at the guard. "And stop the van!"

The driver pulled the van over as the guard hurried to unlock Joker's handcuffs. "Thanks, sucker," said Joker, sitting up and slamming the handcuffs into the guard's face. While he was incapacitated, Joker seized his gun and then shot him, turning around and doing the same to the driver.

"It's almost too easy, puddin'," sighed Harley, as he took the key from the dead guard and uncuffed her, and then climbed over to take the driver's seat, shoving the body out of the door, wiping the blood from the windscreen, and drawing a smiley face on what was left.

"It is," agreed Joker, nodding. "But no complaints, pooh – when I was in that coma, there were a lotta people acting in unpredictable ways. I learned how nice it is for the people I know to be dependable."

"Like me, huh, puddin'?" asked Harley, as she joined him in the front seat.

"Like you," he agreed. "You were my same loyal, loving Harley girl like you've always been."

"Well, that ain't ever gonna change, puddin'," said Harley, kissing his cheek. "Now c'mon, let's beat it," she said, reaching for her seatbelt.

"Yeah, be sure to buckle up, kid," agreed Joker, reaching for his own. "That's another thing I learned – when it comes to car chases, personal safety is the most important thing. Though I don't see anyone after us yet," he added, glancing out the rearview mirror as they headed out in the van.

"Good. I think I'd seriously start getting flashbacks if we had a car chase," said Harley. "Let's avoid those for a while."

"Well, I'm driving this time, not some useless woman driver like you," retorted Joker. "But I think we'll get back to the hideout without any trouble. I tell ya, I almost feel bad leaving the guys hanging if they actually have planned a welcoming party for me at Arkham, but I doubt they have. But since I won't turn up, the joke will be on them, which will be a hilarious punchline!" he chuckled.

"Red's gonna be real disappointed she won't be able to give you that knockout present," sighed Harley, as she glanced out the window.

"You ok?" asked Joker, noticing her wistful tone.

"I'm fine," said Harley. "I'm better than fine," she added, beaming at him. "I thought I lost you, but you're back and it's just the two of us again. I'm the luckiest gal in the world, and don't think I don't appreciate that."

Joker pinched her cheek affectionately. "But?" he pressed.

"Nothing," she said, firmly. "I'm focusing on being grateful for my life, and not wanting more things. I quit religion a long time ago, but when you were in that coma, I prayed to any God who would listen that if you woke up unharmed, I'd never ask for anything more ever again, because I'm happy with what I got."

"Good for you," said Joker, nodding.

"Which is why I've decided to give up on my dreams," continued Harley. "It's like how your dream of being Batman's partner in crime wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Sometimes we build these ambitions up in our heads, which makes us ungrateful for the things we have. Well, I ain't gonna be ungrateful anymore. I got a wonderful life, and I should be happy with what I got, the love of my adoring Mr. J, which is more than enough for me."

Joker said nothing. "It's good to be happy," he agreed. "But you can be happy and still have dreams, y'know. I mean, just because my dream of being Bat's partner in crime didn't work out, I still got other dreams involving him that I ain't gonna give up on. Like my dream to make him laugh. Or my dream to make him see how crazy his dreams are. Or my dream of him learning to appreciate me, which he did while I was in the coma, because he saved my life. If you really want something…you can't just give up on it, because you're always gonna really want it."

"Well, like you said, some things are impossible dreams," said Harley. "And we can't always get what we want."

Joker nodded slowly, and then slid his hand on to her knee. "Y'know what I'm in the mood for when we get back to the hideout?" he asked. "Some good, old-fashioned playtime. Being stuck in a coma really puts you in the mood, oddly enough, and I gotta make sure all the equipment still works."

"Oh, Mr. J!" giggled Harley, grinning at him. "I can't wait! Although, hang on…" she said, frowning. "We need to stop at the drugstore first. I'm all outta birth control pills, and you know what you just said – safety first."

"Well, when it comes to sex, I like to break my own rules and live dangerously," said Joker, shrugging.

Harley stared at him. "But…but what if…something happens, puddin'?" she asked, slowly.

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," he replied, smiling at her. "What about you, Harley? I think the uncertainty will make it even more of a fun gag - it'll be like playing Russian roulette with your ovaries. And if I happen to fire a bullet…well, what's the worst that could happen?"

Harley beamed at him. "Well, you were just involved in a car accident, so the odds are you'll avoid accidents for a while," she said, kissing him. "I mean, that's probability, right?"

"My thoughts exactly, pooh bear," agreed Joker. "But if I were you, I'd keep your fingers crossed for that accident."

**The End**


End file.
